


The Death of Kylo Ren

by nymja



Series: Crossroads [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: (of sorts), Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Knights of the Old Republic vibes, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Strung-Out Force Prophecy, Tumblr fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 57,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5571064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymja/pseuds/nymja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey knows a lot about being lonely. Enough to recognize it in other people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Alone

**Author's Note:**

> for the Tumblr fill: Reylo, established relationship.

 

When Rey was younger, she would sit outside the shipping yard of the Niima Outpost. Her fingers would find the gaps in the fencing meant to distinguish property lines, and she would lean her forehead against the rusted metal. Engine grease and exhaust would fill her nose, and she would watch the faces: a pot-bellied woman with goggles on her head. An old man spitting out chew onto the desert sands. She would watch them all, one by one by one.

 _Are you it?_ She would think. _Are you_?

The sun would set, and she would still be there—watching the faces, watching the engines become pinpricks of light in the setting sun as they flew further and further into the sky. She would stare up at the sky until her eyes strained, counting how many seconds it would take for them to vanish from view—until the faces were gone, and it was just her and the sand again.

Rey knows a lot about being lonely. Enough to recognize it in other people.

\--

That’s how it started, really.

\--

He wants her to be afraid of him, and she supposes, in some ways, she _is._ Afraid of what he might do. Afraid of the people he might hurt. But she has seen the boy, buried under the ashes of Kylo Ren, and what once might have been fear of him is now nothing more than pity. Because how can a person be afraid of anything that is driven by fear? How can anyone _run_ from that?

Rey doesn’t try to run anymore. Whenever they meet, whenever lines are drawn and someone has to face him, she always steps forward.

“We meet again.” Kylo Ren has not drawn his lightsaber, but his fists rest at his side and it is clear he is ready to.

It’s been a year since she burned his face. She has her patchwork lightsaber by her side, made up of salvage and scraps—the crystal from Leia’s ring, a hilt grafted from parts of Luke’s X-Wing, a power cell from Finn’s blaster, a lens from BB-8’s auxiliary kit. It’s a mismatch of parts, of the people she protects when she holds it in her hands. Not pretty, but strong. When ignited, its double blades resemble a staff.

Kylo Ren is alone, and waiting for her to make the first move.

“Nothing to say?” He asks, taking a step to his side. He begins to walk a circle around her—she keeps her eyes trained on his hands. “And alone.”

Her thumb grazes the ignition switch of her weapon. “No, not alone.”

She feels his stare.

It lasts for a few moments, before he ignites his lightsaber. She ignites hers in turn.

\--

They fight. She wins.

Once again she leaves him on the ground, cradling his side and slamming his fist into the earth.

\--

She doesn’t see him watching as the engine lights of her ship become pinpricks in the sky.


	2. Alive

\--

_Before._

\--

_Her heart is pounding, forehead beading with sweat, but Rey’s hands are steady as they dance across the controls. She’s always understood the economy of movement—one second here, one and a half there. “More” or “less” are dangerous terms in a spacecraft, never mind in a small fighter currently taking ion damage on the port side._

_Another shot peppers her flank. Rey is hurled violently from side to side in her safety harness. She wheezes from the pressure it puts on her chest, before her fingers are fluttering—dancing—again._

_Her astromech runs diagnostics. She has a shot. Just one. Her response is quick, an instinct. Her fingers squeeze around the trigger and-_

_She takes it. It hits._

_Rey looks up, and sees a familiar shuttlecraft falling toward the planet below them through her viewport. The shuttle leaves a trail of smoke behind it, thick and acrid, and she doesn’t see any ejections from safety pods as it hurls toward the ground._

_She smiles, after a moment, more happy to be alive than anything else. She just shot down Kylo Ren. It’s a major victory for the Resistance—born out of an accident._

_Rey taps her fingers against the console in a staccato of movement. Her eyes drift down to the planet. The shuttle’s disappeared, as if there was nothing to begin with. It reminds her of footsteps in the sand, blown over by wind. Just like that, just that easily, he’s gone._

_She did it. It’s over._

_But her eyes don’t look away from the spot where Kylo Ren has fallen._

_\--_

**Six months later.**

“Easy,” Luke’s voice is the only signal she can cut out in the noise, so Rey follows it. “Slow breaths, Rey. There you go.”

Rey fights the gasp as consciousness hits her full-force. Instead, she follows her Master’s instructions. She takes little, slow breaths until orientation hits her.

She’s…underwater? No, that’s not right. A tank. She’s in a tank. Rey sluggishly lifts her arm in experimentation, the movement bogged down from the pressure of the liquid she’s submerged in. It’s not water, the consistency is too thick. Bacta?

Why would she-

Rey keeps her eyes closed, as memories of the battle come back to her. She had been piloting, an X-Wing this time with Blue Squadron, one of her first missions officially flying with them. They had been engaged against the First Order, and then there had been a…a scream?

Her head throbs. She can’t speak to Luke with the oxygen mask on her face, but she calls out to him through the Force and presses her hand against the duraplastic of the tank. When she opens her eyes, his hand is lined up right next to hers—it looks something like a high-five.

Her thoughts must skim Luke’s, because he gives her a tired smile. “Dashing heroics, huh?”

She literally can’t argue with that.

Luke shakes his head, and she can feel amusement rather than worry slowly winning over his emotions. Good. She doesn’t like him worrying, especially over her. His last student.

“You were lucky—if you weren’t thrown clear from the fighter it would’ve been...”

Panic hits Rey’s chest as she remembers. After the scream, there had been a shot. Her fighter had shook. Her systems overheated, fire sparked from her console, and she smelled the odor of fuel before-

There had been an angry, unrestrained _tug._ Then the wall of the fighter had been ripped away, like someone grabbing it and tearing. She remembers her seat falling out into open space, her X-Wing exploding behind her, and then nothing. Drifting.

Almost immediately, Rey feels _it_ in the back of her mind—loud and intense. There aren’t any words, usually there isn’t between the two of them. Instead she just senses waves of emotions, spun up in a turmoil. She can’t decipher all of them, only the most prominent: relief, guilt. Anger.

Rey swallows, and suddenly _knows_ who it was that fired on her. Her eyes dart to Luke. She also remembers who the scream belonged to.

Her Master’s face is impossible to read. “Get some rest, Rey.”

The med droid to the side of her tank presses a button on the console. Her eyes close.

Once again, Rey drifts away.

\--

She wakes up two days later, to the sound of the tank disengaging and the bacta draining in a slow pull toward her feet. Her fingers and toes are wrinkled, and her body feels incredibly heavy now that there’s no liquid to support its weight. Her teeth start to chatter, even though the med room is warm enough, and she feels a stiffness still in her left knee and a throbbing in the center of her head. The bacta tank opens, and the apparatuses disengage from her body. She takes an unbalanced move out of it, grateful to see a change of clothes nearby, neatly folded.

With clumsy fingers, she pulls them on. There are new scars on her arms, light and hardly noticeable. At least against another, deeper one that runs across her forearm—from a burn. She traces her fingertips over it. Tries to regain her bearings.

A few diagnostic checks later, and she’s clear to return to the outside world.  She does so with somewhat unsteady steps.

\--

There are three, encrypted messages on her console when she gets to her room. She looks at them, hears her blood rushing in her ears and the spin of emotions which have taken up residency in her consciousness, and deletes them all with her custom economy of movement.

Then, she sleeps. If only to avoid thinking.

\--

Later that evening, Finn and Poe ask to take her out to drinks to celebrate her close call with death (“Blue tradition!” Poe says with a wink), but noise is the last thing she wants at the moment, so she makes her polite excuses and instead seeks out Luke.

Rey and her Master have a lot of qualities in common. One of which is that they’re still trying to get used to being surrounded by people. Luke’s quarters, like her own, are temporary ones that are set up on the edges of the Resistance base. It’s quiet there, and she thinks that’s exactly what she needs right now.

She barely has to knock on the door before it slides open, and she’s surprised to see, of all things, Master Luke watching an old holorecording and drinking a beer. His feet are on the table.

“You’re up,” he says with a smile. Rey smiles back. They’ve known each other a little over two years now, and she knows that when Luke smiles, he means it.

“I managed,” she states, making a somewhat stiff walk to the opposite chair Luke has set up in his living space. He only has one for company, something which always manages to make her sad in light of the stories she’s heard about him from the older members of the Resistance. The old holos she’s seen of him, wearing an orange flightsuit and surrounded by laughing friends.

“Feeling alright?”

Rey puts her own feet up on the table. The pained pressure on her knee instantly abates. “Knee’s good enough. A little weird.”

“Weird.” Luke echoes, before he Force floats her a beer. She looks at him with wide-eyes, before he shrugs. “It helps when watching this holo.”

She turns. It’s… _Nebulae Crossings._ Rey opens the beer.

“When I flew with the Rebels, sometimes our recon flights would take months.” Luke takes a sip from his. “Hobbie liked the old drama series, and would bring vids with him. This one stuck with me.”

Rey focuses on the holo. Watches as Captain Euphrates kicks a blaster out of a Stormtrooper’s hand a few seconds after the Stormtrooper drops it. She holds her beer, the cold sweat of the bottle keeping her attention focused off of the pull in her mind. Luke explains to her the characters as they appear, one after the other, and gives her exposition on the story. Euphrates rescues his crew on _The Endeavor._

She feels both present, and further away than ever. In her mind, she relives that moment in the X-Wing before she was shot: her hands on the controls, Force senses helping her navigate friend from foe from debris on the battlefield. How she felt _him,_ out there somewhere, and how she had avoided anything on her sensors that read like a shuttlecraft.

They’re into the third episode together when she can’t keep silent anymore.

“Luke,” she says quietly as the pair of them keep their attention trained on the holo, “My evacuation was malfunctioning. I should have been incinerated.”

“I know,” Luke says in a tone equally soft.

Rey’s thumb scrapes at the packing label of the beer. The condensation of the bottle keeps her thoughts focused, makes it possible to make the confession that’s been worming through her. “I…I think I had help.”

“I know you did,” Luke replies gently.

She swallows, guilt and shame and _foolishness_ making water come to her eyes. “I think…I think I’ve made a mistake.”

Luke is quiet, thumb absently tapping against the bottle in his hand. Finally, he rests a hand over her shoulders, pulling her into a hug—it’s an awkward gesture, between the two chairs, but it makes her feel a flood of calm. Of acceptance. It hadn’t occurred to her, before this very instant, that she was afraid Luke would leave her if he found out. That he would stop their training, and more importantly, their friendship.

“If it is a mistake,” he starts carefully, and Rey can hear the pain in his voice. “It’s one that kept you alive.”

Rey takes in a shaking breath. “What should I do?”

“You were nearly incinerated, shot down, and rescued from open space in the middle of a firefight.” Luke scoots his chair closer to hers. She meets him halfway, not hesitating when she rests her cheek on his shoulder. “We’ll handle the big questions tomorrow.”

“And tonight?”

He grins, the expression a little sad, as he leans further back into his chair. “Well. Captain Euphrates and Dr. Marrow were just kidnapped by pirates. I think we should see how it turns out.”

Rey looks at him, manages a strained smile, and turns her attention back to the holo—wiping away the tears on her cheeks with the heel of her hand. Luke’s arm is heavy around her.

Safe.

They’re both safe. That’s all that matters, right now.

\--

He wakes her up the next morning, with that strange pull between them. It winds itself around her mind and tugs, phantom limbs and surrogate emotions that she can’t see or find. This time, however, there’s a message. It’s quiet, hesitant, but so very clear in her mind:

_Are you alive_

The question terrifies her. So instead of a response, she tries to enter meditation and empty her mind. At her silence, she feels his anger—it compacts into itself like a star collapsing in his chest—before he slams whatever door it is between them.

She breathes in, rattled, before she disengages from the trance. As her thoughts return to her, one is abundantly obvious: she needs to tell Luke.

\--

“I don’t know what to do,” she says, an echo of the conversation they pointedly didn’t have the night before.

Luke stands across from her, his hands loosely wrapped around his lightsaber as he walks her through a new stance in the training yard. “Why don’t we start with what you did do, and go from there.”

Rey bites down on her lip. She draws her arms back—unlike Luke, she fights with a double-bladed weapon, so some modifications to the stances are necessary. “I…”

She tries to remember. There weren't any moments which seemed significant at the time, and now it’s all she can think about. Where was the moment when any of this started to  _make sense._ “I was flying a recon mission for Leia. About six months ago, one of my first missions since we returned to the base.”

Luke nods, adjusting his footing. Rey leans forward, mimicking him.

“One of my transponder codes was slightly out of date. A communications officer on the planet underside must have thought it was suspicious, and tipped off the First Order.”

Luke slowly rotates his wrist. Rey follows.

“Kylo Ren showed up. I shot his shuttle down.”

Luke advances, his green lightsaber flashing as he swings it in an arc. Rey pivots, digging her heels in as she blocks the strike with the hilt of her own staff. Her Master nods, pleased.

“And that’s how it started?”

Rey breaks the impasse, backing away. “I think so.”

“What makes you think that?”

Rey breathes slowly through her nose. Tries to find her calm as old memories resurface. “I…I don’t know, exactly. But that’s where it _feels_ like it-“

“Changed.”

“Yes.”

Luke frowns. He advances again, his movements slower than her own but far more controlled. She blocks, he strikes. The electric cackle of their weapons connecting fills the training area, and a few members of the Resistance stop to watch on the sides—far enough away to give them their privacy. Luke and Rey are still something of a novelty here, a fact that used to make her feel awkward but is now something she’s embraced. Her time spent with the pilots in their formation drills as a reserve member has helped with this, made her and Luke less legends and more….like people.

_“Still afraid?”  
“Why? Does that make you feel better?”_

Rey closes off her thoughts and perceptions, focusing only on her Master in front of her and the conversation they’re attempting to puzzle out.

It’s a few minutes before Luke’s next question is voiced, stated in a way that is more like him trying to think through his own thoughts, rather than fully understand hers. “You think he pulled you out of the fighter?”

There it is. Spoken, out in the open. No longer a secret thing she feels settling in her chest. Rey tries not to feel panicked, exposed. In a pragmatic, logistical sort of way she’s…done nothing wrong. But this doesn’t feel pragmatic. Or logistical. It feels like something that’s going to be doomed to spiral down.

Rey swallows. “It’s-“ she shakes her head, “I _know_ he pulled me out of the fighter.” She lifts her double-bladed lightsaber, parries against him. Luke backs away. “But...I can't tell you  _why._ ”

Luke mulls this over, and with a sigh he disengages his lightsaber. Rey follows, the twin blades retracting in a way that makes the area seem impossibly silent. Luke evens out his breathing, hands resting on his hips.

“It could have been a trap,” he guesses, though he sound skeptical of his own theory. Luke moves, opting to sit on one of the cargo containers that litter the outside of the base.

Rey follows him with her gaze, unable to shake the sensation of nerves. She hasn’t done anything wrong. She _hasn’t._ But. Something had to have changed between them in ways she doesn't want to admit.

“How,” Luke looks down, clearly uncomfortable. He coughs into his hand, as though this is a conversation he would rather not be having, “How long have-?”

Rey shakes her head, “It’s not like that.” She makes sure her voice is clear, steady. “I just- I hear him, sometimes.”

His eyebrows raise, “Hear?”

“Yes. In my thoughts.”

“What does he say?”

“Nothing, usually. Just. Feelings.” She presses the heel of her hand against her forehead, struggling not to pace.

“About you?”

She bites down on her lip, not wanting it to be true. “I don’t think so.”

Luke sighs and looks up. “So Ben saved your life. And you don’t know why.”

He never calls him Kylo Ren. Not once. Rey always wonders what sort of pain it must be, to live with such a ghost.

“No.” Rey mutters, trying to come to a solution on her own and failing.

Luke absently rubs a finger over his bearded chin. “How long has this been going on?”

Rey closes her eyes. “I don’t know.” And it’s the truth. The easy answer is six months ago, when things changed. But she doesn’t know if that’s right. She doesn’t understand anything about what’s happening—or what she should do about it.

“So what does this mean?” She finally asks.

“…I think, for now, that decision is up to you.”

“I don’t know if I can make one yet.”

“Then we’ll keep training. And be ready for whatever comes next.”

She doesn’t know what that reassures her, but it does. “Alright.”

Rey sits next to Luke on the container, and Master and student fall into a shared silence—Rey’s good leg absently kicking back and forth as they watch the sun set together.

\--

_Are you alive_

Rey shoots out of bed, breathing in harsh gaps. Sweat runs down the side of her face as she looks around her quarters: same four walls. Same work bench.

He’s not here. She heard him. But he’s not _here._

Rey’s heart pounds, as she slowly brings herself up into a sitting position. She’s never attempted to answer him before. And, truthfully, she doesn’t want to start.

**_Are you alive_ **

It’s louder. And almost pleading. Her console is glowing with unread, encrypted messages. Rey sits, staring at her hands and trying to determine what to do next. Does she let him know she’s alive? Why does he still care? Should the messages be sent on to Leia?

She takes a moment to collect her thoughts. In her head, she hears that scream, the one right before her X-Wing was shot down. She realizes now that it was crying out-

**_Rey_.**

-her name. She closes her eyes, head still hurting from waking up in the bacta tank.

**_Rey!_ **

Her head pounds, a stabbing pain that seems to hit her right in the temple. She rubs at it, trying to coax the sensation away. Eventually it recedes, but she still feels _him—_ his anger, his panic. The no small amount of self-loathing at odds with rage directed at someone else. Her? Maybe. There’s so much about this channel that she doesn’t understand.

All she _does_ know is that she wants to sleep. She wants him to _be quiet,_ and for the emotions that are invading her own to go back into the container they’ve been resting in for the last six months. And she knows that the only way to get him to retreat is for him to know she hears him.

She doesn’t have a decision about whatever her survival meant to Kylo Ren. But she does know she’s tired of him asking about it. Rey tries to clear her thoughts, to focus only on answering his one question.

Hesitantly, and for the first time, Rey _reaches_. Just a little—not enough for a real response. Instead, it’s more like a brush, a fleeting touch between fingers. Something that says _I’m still here._

She feels his relief spike, followed shortly by his anger. And then he’s gone, and there’s nothing but silence in her room.

Rey gives a shaky exhale, before she lies back and attempts to return to sleep.

\--

She’s woken up an hour later, but this time she hears Luke:

_We’re needed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -[Derek "Hobbie" Klivian](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Derek_Klivian)
> 
> -[ _Nebulae Crossings_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hdjL8WXjlGI) ;)


	3. Aalto

_\--_

_Before._

_\--_

_The planet is one gigantic swamp. Rey grits her teeth at the insects whirling around her head, and tries to ignore the little pinpricks of bug bites as she feels them on her neck and arms. She’s had awful ideas, but this one has to be near the top._

_She’d followed the shuttle down to the planetside._

_However, as she reminded herself for the fifth or sixth time as yet another bug bit at her exposed skin, it wasn’t just out of guilt. She needed a new transponder code—it was the main reason Kylo Ren had found her in the first place. And what better location for a transponder code than the crashlanded shuttle of one of its highest-ranking members. So, the landing mission had become three-fold: minor repairs on her fighter. Upload transponder codes from the shuttle wreckage. Check for survivors. Maybe._

_Rey bit the inside of her cheek, deciding to focus on parts one and two. The shuttle was easy enough to find, she’d had her astromech do basic calculations for its trajectory and followed it down. Whoever was piloting for Ren was skilled—the shuttle had managed to land on a clearing._

_Half of it, anyway._

_Rey took a deep breath, shouldering her pack, and cast out her senses in the way Luke had been teaching her. She didn’t sense anyone alive on board._

_No survivors. Nothing to check for._

_It made something twist a little inside her. She had killed them, then._

_Which was a concept she could dwell over later. For now, Rey decided to keep her attention on her second objective—procuring the data from the shuttle. She walked forward, her X-Wing in clear sight of the gangway, and stepped over the bodies that littered the path inside. Eventually, she finds a port. Her fingers are steady as she cuts through the shuttle’s databank, uploading transponder codes onto her personal datapad for analysis and, hopefully, use._

_She doesn’t look at the bodies of Stormtroopers on the ground, her mind painfully thinking of Finn. She also doesn’t dwell on the fact that Kylo Ren’s isn’t among them. Instead, she focuses her nervous energy on the prominent desire to_ go _. It’s not a good idea to stay here._

_The datapad in her hand chirps as the intel is finally transferred. Rey gives a low sigh of relief, quickly undoing the connector cables between the shuttle and the handheld console—if all went well, she should have the shuttle’s astronavigational charts, ship logs, transponder codes, and communication transcripts. She imagines Statura’s reaction at the jackpot of enemy information, and a grin forms on her lips. It’ll be like lifeday for him. And Leia._

_With a quick movement, she snaps the transfer cables out of the shuttle, wrapping it around her hand before placing it diligently into her kit. The grin stays as she stands, jogging quickly back to the exit._

_She makes it back to the gangway. Then, she hears that far too familiar electrical hiss, feels that terrible draw. Rey swallows, hand resting protectively on her pack._

_Kylo Ren stands at the foot of the shuttle._

_One of his arms is braced against it, the other barely manages to lift his lightsaber. Half of his mask has been torn away, revealing his cheek, chin, and part of his split lip._

_“Scavenger,” he spits. His labored breathing echoes within what is left of the mask._

_Rey looks at him: at the torn state of his robes, the collapsed positioning of his leg. The way his arm is visibly shaking from the strain of holding up his weapon’s weight._

_“You’re injured.” She tries to meet his eyes, somehow knowing she’s succeeded despite the mask.  She keeps her voice calm. Rational. “You won’t win if we fight.”_

_Kylo Ren snorts, using the arm braced against the support column to lift himself into more of a standing position. “So I should let you go?” He hisses, before digging his thumb into a wound on his leg. His head snaps back and Rey sees the visible part of his mouth pull into a grimace. “Allow you to escape? The girl who shot down my shuttle? Killed my guard?”_

_Rey can feel her chin jut out as annoyance hits her. “You’re half dead.” She squares her shoulders. “Keep that lightsaber pointed at me and you’ll finish the job all on your own!”_

_“Give me the datapad,” Kylo Ren growls, lifting up the lightsaber again._

_“No.”_

_“Then fight.”_

_“Absolutely not.”_

_Kylo Ren attempts to take a step toward her, but he staggers. She can tell that it’s a monumental effort for him to just stand, let alone attempt any sort of pursuit. It makes her decision remarkably simple. Rey jumps off the gangway, running toward her X-Wing._

_“Stop!” He yells._

_She doesn’t listen._

_“STOP!” He bellows again._

_Rey feels a strange lurch in her gut, and she comes to a stop in front of her fighter just in time to see the port S-foils be ripped clean off through a violent, chaotic surge in the Force. The flying debris of what was once her wing is sent spiraling into the swamp that surrounds them. Her heart leaps up to her throat, and Rey slowly turns back to the man behind her._

_Kylo Ren’s arm is extended in the air, his hand clawed. His words are smug, despite being impossibly strained._

_“Please,” he gives a short, sharp breath, “continue your retreat.”_

_Rey’s mouth gapes open, and she’s trying to formulate a response when Kylo Ren sinks to his knees, and collapses against the ground mask-first._

_One thought hits her:_

Idiot.

\--

**Now.**

\--

“We’re here.” Luke’s hand pushes forward on the lever, killing the ion engines of the transport. “Try not to breathe in too deep.”

Rey ducks down in order to see out of the viewport, her eyes widening as she takes in the bustling skyline. The buildings tower above them, ships flying like crazed insects through the sky. She can’t help the short, little laugh that escapes her.

“I’ve never been anywhere so…”

“Noisy?”

“ _Alive._ ”

Luke sends her a wry look, before shaking his head. “It’s been a long time. Don’t think I missed it, much.”

She turns to her Master. “You’ve been to Nar Shaddaa before?”

He grins. “Once. Got robbed here, actually.”

“Robbed? _You_?”

“That’s right. Then I had to fight in a death match to amuse a Hutt crime boss.” He scratches his cheek. “It happens.”

Rey is never quite sure when he’s joking with her.

Luke’s face draws pensive, as his eyes distantly train on the ships criss-crossing in front of them. Rey tries to follow whatever it is he’s looking at, but it’s impossible through all the noise. All the light. After a few moments, her Master’s brows furrow.

“Can you hear it, Rey?” He asks carefully.

 _Hear what?_ is on the tip of her tongue, but Rey understands a teachable moment when she hears one. She tries to filter out the background music made up of ion engines and stabilizers, to tune into a separate frequency. Rey starts by listening only to her breathing, then her heartbeat, and soon she feels her arms and legs go numb and she is not just Rey, she is part of something else. Something large, and luminous.

It helps her to find what Luke wants her too. Buried deep within the heart of the Smuggler’s Moon, she can make it out. A song, or a whisper. A calling that has long been smothered, but is still pure.

“The Force lives here,” she realizes, looking up at the buildings in shock. There are more cantinas than temples, and the people she sees walking around travel in groups or have bounty hunter sigils on their vests. Graffiti stains many of the walls. “It’s…beautiful.”

Luke hums in contentment. “And always where you least expect it. Keep looking.”

She does. And frowns when there’s a disturbance in the pattern, a rest in the music.

“What is that?”

Her Master’s lips press together tightly. “Keep going.”

Rey obeys. She follows the altered rhythm, feels it as it begins to pound crescendo in her mind. Everything starts to ache, to hurt. She feels her body coat in a cold sweat as vertigo assaults her. It’s pain, but of the sickly sort. She can’t orientate herself, and the thread she pulls starts to spin. Nausea hits her like a blow to the stomach and throat, and she cradles her forehead against her hand, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Poison,” she declares, because it’s the only thing that makes sense.

“Almost,” Luke whispers. He closes his eyes, and she feels him next to her in the Force—blinding and brilliant as always. “It’s someone caught. Torn between two places, yet belonging to neither.” He opens his eyes. “I think we’ve found our objective.”

Rey looks back out the viewport. The lights and sounds of Nar Shaddaa spin around her—loud and chaotic but lovely in a way that this person in the Force is not. She slowly straightens in her seat.

“ _That’s_ the informant Leia sent us to bring to the Resistance?”

Luke nods, slowly undoing the fastens of his safety harness. “Yes.” His voice sounds impossibly sad. “That’s our Knight of Ren.”

\--

She’s never been anywhere like this before.

Her eyes dart around, unable to focus on one thing as she follows Luke through the marketplace. It puts the Niima Outpost to shame—the various merchants, the vicious haggling, the spirited sales pitches are all a far cry from the monotonous portion line in front of Unkar’s wares. She slows in her step a few times, unable to resist the urge to watch as an Ithorian haggles with a Devronian for seeds, or a few bounty hunters get into a bidding war for a blaster modification. The arguments, the bartering. Steam rises from something a food vendor is boiling and Rey can’t help but enjoy the warmth of it as it wafts from the kettle.

Realistically, Rey knows they’re here for a mission. An important one. But it’s hard not to feel both inquisitive and overwhelmed all at once. Even with the informant’s sickly presence in the Force, there’s still a vitality here that is impossible to ignore.

“Rey,” Luke calls patiently.

Her head snaps up, seeing her Master standing a few feet away, an amused expression on his face.

“Sorry,” she mutters.

He looks up. “We’ll have to come back here another time.”

She grins. “Really?”

“I think we’ll be able to spare a moment once that war is over.”

Rey reluctantly tears herself away from watching the vendors, jogging to make up for the distance she’s lagged behind. Luke waits for her, and they begin walking again side by side. Rey’s not oblivious to the way that some people stare—more at Luke than her. They turn back to him with a curious expression, as if he’s someone they know but can’t recall _why._

“Don’t worry,” he says with a completely straight face, “The beard always throws them.”

She smiles, wondering how she can manage the expression—or ignore the panic—when they’re possibly walking straight into a trap. When Luke and Rey received the mission from Leia, it was one with underlying tension and well-earned suspicion.

A week ago, the Resistance had been contacted by an informant, an apparent defect from the First Order. They had claimed they would offer intel in exchange for protection and an escort to a Resistance safehouse.

They had also claimed to be a former Knight of Ren.

Rey’s mind has been working hard not to think about him, but the questions still came. What if this was a trap laid out by Kylo Ren? What if he had torn her from her fighter only to kill her or Luke here?

…what if this was an actual defecting Knight of Ren? What could that possibly mean for the rest of them?

Rey’s lightsaber is well-concealed within the holster she keeps across her back. For all extents and purposes, there’s nothing remarkable about it—it merely looks like a regular quarterstaff. She can’t help but feel like it’s a target painted across her back, her attention solidly divided between drinking in the new sights and sounds and smells and also scanning the crowds for a potential attacker.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” he reassures her.

She knows. She’s handled a lot in her life. Still, Rey’s fingers wrap around the strap of her holster—a gesture of security that, if nothing else, makes her feel better.

\--

They find lodgings near a cantina called The Orange Lady, in the Corellian Sector of the moon. Rey watches as blue and pink neon lights alternate through their viewport, streaking the floor of their room. From the third floor, she can still easily hear the chimes and hollers from the casinos, the distorted sounds of fighting from the alleys. Her head is still swimming a little, as she tries to organize the constant onslaught of sensation—noise and lights and _people_ , just unlimited amounts of them all.

Luke seems to understand, because after a moment he rests his hand on her shoulder and gently steers her away from the viewport. Then, he closes the shutters with a press of a button.

“We’ll be back out soon enough,” he promises. There’s a troubled look to him that she had grown used to not seeing. It reminds her of the Steps, the haunted expression that seemed to dominate his entire presence.

“What’s wrong?”

Luke smiles. “It’s going to be a long day, try to meditate.”

Rey doesn’t like the brush-off. It’s uncharacteristic of Luke, who’s usually so open with her.  She also doesn’t like the sudden stillness after the saturation of noise—she can’t help but have a bad feeling.

“Luke?”

“Yes?”

Rey swallows, not sure if it’s right to ask her next question or not. “What if it actually is a Knight of Ren?” _Will you be alright?_

“Then we deal with it as it comes.”

She hesitates, but eventually manages a nod, settling into a Jedi trance.

\--

_The rain is hot and miserable, its drops hitting like quick punches. On the ground, he breathes—it’s raspy, his lungs like an old door slowly swinging open. Small puddles are forming in the folds of his robes._

_The fingers of his non-injured hand spread out, trying to reach something._

_She doesn’t know why she does it, but her fingers slide easily into his—like a knife between ribs._

_“Stop moving.”  
He does._

_\--_

Rey’s eyes blink open when she feels Luke’s gentle nudge at the edge of her senses. She takes a second to adjust to her settings: rolling her shoulders, working out the kink in her neck. Whatever she saw in the vision is forgotten as the reality of their room settles in. Four walls. A console. A set of shutters muting out the garish lights they’re immersed in.

Luke, sitting across from her and waiting.

She blinks away the last of her trance. “Luke?”

“I received a message,” he says, holding up his datapad, “It’s encryption matches the one sent to the Resistance base.”

“What’s it say?”

“Come now.”

Rey stands, shaking out the pins and needle sensation in her still sore knee. “You’re sure about this?”

Luke rubs a finger contemplatively over his bearded chin. “No.”

The honesty surprises her.

He stands. “But we should do it anyway.”

“Where are we meeting them?”

“The Undercity, at…” Luke sighs. “The Womp Rat cantina.”

“Alright.”

“Stay close to me, and if it’s a trap…”

“Run?”

“Run.”

\--

It takes Rey only five seconds in The Womp Rat to understand why Luke still wears a hooded cloak everywhere. Thick plumes of cigarra smoke hang around the rafters and lights like strange clouds, and wherever she and Luke walk, eyes follow. A pair of Rodians start snickering as soon as they pass their table, and Rey sends out an inquisitive feeling toward Luke—wondering if it’s something to be concerned about.

He gives a small shake of his head. “Stim.”

Rey looks again. The Rodians have a small, burner torch in the center of their table, and several clear jars. She quickly looks away. If Niima Outpost taught her anything, it was that averted eyes usually meant avoiding a fight.

They make their way to the bar, where a human is serving something frothy and green. The man’s eyes dart to Rey, and he smiles. She frowns in confusion, and his attention quickly bounces to Luke.

“I’m here for a pick up,” Luke states.

The bartender seems to _look_ at them now, and this time he isn’t smiling at Rey when he catches note of the holster over her shoulder. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“We won’t be any trouble.”

“You won’t be any trouble.”

Luke nods, placing his datapad on the counter. “We’re looking for this man.”

The bartender blinks, expression vacant. “Ain’t seen him…”

“But,” Luke prompts.

“Gave me twenty credits to hold this.” The bartender bends down, reaching into a cabinet. He stands up, and places a datapad on the counter. “I don’t want any trouble.” He repeats.

Rey grabs it. Luke nods, and releases his hold on the bartender, who sways a little where he stands. The bartender then looks at Rey, and smiles. Once again she frowns at him, and he pouts.

“Can I get you two anything to drink?”

“No thanks,” Luke says, “We were just leaving.”

Rey turns on the datapad, and skims its contents. “Coordinates,” she explains to Luke, “To an apartment complex.”

He sighs.

\--

The apartment complex is further into the Undercity. Rey keeps her senses cast out, hand constantly flexing and ready to grab her weapon at a moment’s notice. To her side, Luke does the same. They walk for a few blocks, until Rey is suddenly and violently hit with a roll of nausea. Like before, Rey casts out her senses—trying to hear the diluted music that runs through the buildings and life of Nar Shaddaa. The door in front of her pulses with that sickly, poisoned energy, and she shoots a glance at Luke. After a moment, he gives a slow dip of his chin.

“I’ll wait out here, if you need me.”

Rey takes a deep breath, and pulls her lightsaber from its sheathe. She presses her thumb against the ignition switch, and twin, silver blades emerge from either end of her hilt. The complex seems abandoned—there is nothing in it but the one lifeform. Dim. Pained.

She closes her eyes, takes a slow breath through her nose, and Force-pulls the door open.

The first thing that hits her is the smell. It’s sour and stale, old sweat and what might be the stink of an infected wound. She doesn’t gag, but even she can’t stop her nose from wrinkling. The next is that it’s completely dark in the apartment, the eerie halo from her lightsaber the only thing casting illumination.

The third is the cold feel of a blaster pressed against the base of her head. Rey stills.

“Turn it off,” growls the voice of a man. “And turn around.”

She clears her mind. “You want to put down the weapon.”

The man behind her snorts. She can now determine that his breathing is labored, strained. “Jedi _tricks._ ”

Rey places more will behind her direction. “Put down the weapon.”

The hand holding the blaster to her neck starts to shake. “You-!”

“Put. Down. The weapon.”

His arm almost spasms, but Rey hears the clutter of it as it drops to the floor. Abruptly, she turns—her lightsaber under his chin. She almost recoils at what she sees. The man in front of her is sickly, sallow skin made almost translucent in the silver light. He could have been thirty, or fifty, his eyes bloodshot and fair hair plastered to his head with sweat.

The poison in the Force rolls from him in waves.

Rey’s eyes narrow. “Do you know why I’m here?”

He groans, wincing and almost doubling over. “Little Jedi girl.” Sweat runs down his face as well, his arms wrap around his stomach. “Come to…” he exhales in a wheeze, “Save the day.”

“Something like that.” She’s wary of this man, and doesn’t lower her weapon. “Are you injured?”

He snorts, staggering a little to the side. She can see now that he isn’t wearing robes like Kylo Ren. Instead, he’s dressed in simple pants, vest, and shirt. His features are hawklike, though strained under whatever exertion he’s experiencing. The man looks like a spiced out smuggler, not a Knight of Ren. But the Force pulls to him like a sore, strong and tumultuous.

“Not in a way you can help.”

She can feel his agony in the air. Her grip adjusts on her weapon when she releases her mental hold on him and he doesn’t immediately go for the blaster. “What’s your name?”

“Aalto,” he croaks. His lips are chapped. Her wariness must show on her face because he snorts. “Thought I’d be taller?”

She doesn’t know what she thought of the Knights of Ren. But she didn’t expect _this_ —a pitiful man, in obvious pain. Obviously suffering. Rey bites the inside of her cheek.

“Luke is waiting outside,” she orders after a moment. “Leave your blaster, and follow me.”

He wavers where he stands, still clutching his middle. The man—Aalto _Ren_ —goes to walk in front of her but he pauses.

They both feel it at the same time: Rey whips up her lightsaber to aim it back under his chin just as he grabs for another blaster inside his boot.

A presence—not unlike Aalto’s, but stronger, darker—tugs at the edges of Rey’s senses. It’s one she knows.

“ _Schutta,_ ” Aalto seethes, his hand going lax on the handle of the weapon. His bloodshot eyes go wide, manic. “You brought _him_!”

Rey tenses.

“ _You brought Kylo Ren to kill me!”_ He screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -[Nar Shaddaa](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Nar_Shaddaa/Legends)
> 
> -Luke's fight to the death cage match for the Hutt Cartel happens in [Showdown on the Smuggler's Moon](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Star_Wars_8:_Showdown_on_the_Smuggler%27s_Moon,_Part_I)
> 
> -The [Corellian Sector](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Corellian_Sector_\(Nar_Shaddaa\))
> 
> -[The Undercity](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Nar_Shaddaa%27s_Undercity)


	4. Aversion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went ahead and changed the summary-- the tone of the fic changed a bit from what I initially Envisioned haha. Thank you so much for the kudos, comments, and bookmarks <3 I appreciate it!
> 
> Warnings this chapter for Dead Stormtroopers

_\--_

_Before._

\--

_  
For the first time in a long while, Rey has absolutely no idea what to do. She has a Knight of Ren face down on the ground, half of an X-wing, a nonserviceable shuttle partially submerged in a swamp, and a pack full of intel that the Resistance desperately needs._

_And she’s alone._  
_Her eyes go back to Kylo Ren. She turns his lightsaber in her hand._  
_Alone where it counts, anyways._

 _She sighs, clipping his lightsaber to her belt. Then she tries to think about what Luke would do. The first answer is to take a breath. The second is to do what she knows she_ can _do first._

_Casting out her senses, Rey keeps a small part of her attention on the unconscious man. The rest, she diverts to her X-Wing._

_She_ knows _the T-65 models. And she_ believes _that she can do this._

_  
\--_

_  
Five hours later, she has a list of serviceable systems, and a possible survey of the parts she can salvage from Kylo Ren’s shuttle and other equipment. It’s going to be spotty, even in the most optimistic scenario._

_Rey supposes she’s an optimist._

_Kylo Ren is still unconscious, still unattended. It crosses her mind that now would be the opportune time to kill him. To pay him back for Han and Finn. But she can’t make herself cross that distance between her side and his, can barely manage to tread past him when she needs to take something from the shuttle._

_His breathing is growing harsher. His presence in the Force dimmer._

_Rey turns back to her survey list—couplings, she can fix._

_\--_

  
_She’s getting hungry. And it’s getting dark._  
  
_Rey has some rations still in her pack, enough to last her a few days. And water in her fighter. The bugs are growing thicker as the suns start to set, and she knows it’s soon time to call it a night. Her eyes drift to the shuttle, before quickly ruling it out as a place to sleep—the image of Stormtroopers clad in helms with permanently glassy eyes refusing to leave her._

_That leaves her fighter, which has a gaping hole in the side._

_Or…_

_Rey looks back at the shuttle._

_  
\--_

_  
She does her best. There are three bodies—two guards and one pilot. The armor is heavy, but she tries to be gentle as she lifts the bodies onto a sled she fashioned out of her shredded S-foils. It grows dark outside, and soon she’s only working by the blue-hued lights of the back-up generator._

_She makes them shrouds out of her survival gear: a tarp, her tent. A spare flightsuit._

_Rey pauses before she wraps them up, her eyes watering and hands trembling. She doesn’t want to do it, she really doesn’t. But she owes them this. She owes_ Finn _this._

_Gently, she removes their helms. The first is older, perhaps Poe’s age. Her black, curly hair in a mussed bun. The second looks younger. He’s blond, with a bridge of freckles across his nose. The pilot is oldest, his hair short and his lip tugged down in a permanent sneer from a scar._

_She…_

_She wishes she knew more about them. A name. Whether they’d…whether they’d want their helmets. How old they were._

_Rey almost sobs, but she forces herself not to. To remember Jakku, and what it means to have work to do first. With the last amount of strength she has, she grabs the rope out of safety webbing and starts to pull the sled down the gangway._

_  
\--_

_  
She senses that he’s now awake. He’s managed enough movement to lay on his back, though he’s still breathing heavy on the ground—mask still half on. Rey eyes him, swallows, but keeps moving forward. The sled scrapes behind her._

_As she pushes past him, his voice is weak and raspy._

_“What…are you…doing?”_

_She knows, reasonably, that it’s best not to talk to him. What’s truly_ best _is knocking him out again, using the Force to bring about unconsciousness. But she has work to do first._

_“Do you know how they’d want to be…?”_

_She feels his gaze, even if she can’t see it beneath his shattered mask. Silence stretches, as she waits for either an answer or for Kylo Ren to attempt to attack her again. Rey’s mindful of the weights of his lightsaber at her hip and the rope over her shoulder._

_It’s his move._

_He breathes in a rattle. She feels him battling to stay awake._

_“Burn them,” he manages._

_Rey closes her eyes and nods, before she pulls the sled further into the clearing. Fire will keep her warm, and the smoke will ward off the insects._

_It’s also one of the few pieces of Jedi tradition she knows._

_  
\--_

_  
Rey builds a pyre. She places the bodies, and his lightsaber, on top of it. Kylo Ren slips back into unconsciousness—his breathing harsh and near choking._

_She doesn’t watch the flames. Instead, she crosses the distance between her and her enemy. Rey hesitates for only a second, before she slips her hands under his chin and gently lifts the mask. Then the helm. She tosses it aside._

_His hair is matted with blood, his right cheek already blossoming into a bruise. Immediately, his inhales become deep and greedy, split lip parting._

_Rey stares at the scar that bisects his face for a moment. It’s thick and waxy, purple in color. The heat of the funeral pyre warms her back._

_She doesn’t know much about healing. But she turns him on his side, elevates his head with part of his pilot’s chair. She undoes the fastens of his cape, tears down the neck of his robes in case that might help him breathe. She puts a container of water by his head, splints up his collapsed leg, and plasters some of her few bacta patches on the worst looking cuts and hopes it’ll be enough. Once she’s done, she crosses the same distance and sits in a meditation pose before the pyre._

_Rey doesn’t know if any of it’ll work. She doesn’t know if he’s just going to kill her as soon as he’s able to._

_She closes her eyes and does her best to remember each of their faces. Tries to guess at their stories. And Rey makes a quiet confession to herself:  she doesn’t want to be a murderer again._

  
\--

**Now.**

\--

  
“Stop yelling!” Rey yells. There’s already too much noise—in the air, in the Force—without his screaming.

“You’re one of _them,_ aren’t you?” He snarls, tugging at clumps of his hair. “One of the Stormtroopers-“

“What?”

“Played me.” He’s talking more to himself now, starting to sway where he stands. “Fake codes. Fake Resistance. Smoke em out. Find the rest-“

She watches him, grip tensing on her hilt.

“Kill me!” Aalto starts to scream again. “Just do it now! Before _before_ -!”

His eyes roll up. Aalto sinks to his knees, then the ground in an undignified heap.

Behind him, Luke lowers his hand. “We can ask him questions later.”

Rey’s hands shake a little, as she disengages the weapon. “Agreed.”

  
\--

  
They wrap Aalto in Luke’s hooded robe, not that either of them think it will make a much of a difference. The toxicity of Aalto’s presence is too _loud._ So Rey carries him by draping his arm across her shoulders and Luke keeps his attention focused on dimming the signal in the Force.

The Undercity of Nar Shaddaa must be used to this sort of thing, as no one stops to ask any questions about her dragging an unconscious man through the alleys.

  
\--

  
They make it to the outside of The Orange Lady before she staggers. This time it isn’t feelings, or a message.

It’s an image.

_She hears his boots walk across metal grating as if they were her own. Watches through his eyes as he looks at the console of the transport they used to get here. She’s never been happier about the Resistance protocol which calls for constant wiping of astronav charts, comm logs, and codes._

_He steps into the cockpit, bending down to fit. His gaze lingers on the co-pilot’s seat. He finally turns away in favor of finding the ship’s ID._

_“Keep a standing guard at this ship. If it makes atmosphere, order the blockade to shoot it down,” he orders to someone behind him. Another Stormtrooper, maybe._

_“Yes, Lord Ren.”_

_There’s the heavy footfalls of someone retreating. Kylo Ren takes a slow breath, and speaks quietly._

_“You’re here.”_

_Rey doesn’t know how to answer, wouldn’t even if she could. Instead, she does her best to keep this connection one-way, to block him from seeing their location or the fact that she has a strung out former Knight of Ren hanging on her shoulder._

_“There are better ways to get my attention.”_

_He’s goading her. She doesn’t respond._

_“Leave the defect near the former Imperial construction facility, and this doesn’t continue.”_

_Kylo Ren’s head snaps up, and it feels as though he’s staring straight at her._

_“Or I find you.”_

The connection slams, abrupt and violent. Rey returns to her own mind and is surprised to find herself lying on the bed of their lodgings—Aalto collapsed in a nearby chair and Luke standing pensively by the viewport.

“Rey?” Luke asks, having no doubt felt the disturbance.

She swallows, feeling disorientated. “He knows we’re here.”

Her Master stares at her for a moment, something clearly warring in his mind. But his words are calm. “Where is he?”

He doesn’t sound surprised. She fidgets with the edge of her sleeves. “Our transport. He has its ID.”

“Does he know where we are?”

“…No. I don’t think so. He wants us to leave Aalto at a construction site.” She narrows her eyes. “Which we’re _not_ doing.”

Luke nods. “I can hide our location, but we’ll need to find new transport. Sooner the better.”

She takes a breath. Tries to structure her thoughts. She pushes herself up until she’s sitting, elbows resting on her knees. She still _feels_ him, like a stare between her shoulder blades.

“I’ll go,” she says, “and find a transport.”

Luke tenses from where he stands. “Rey…”

She looks up. “If I stay here, he’ll find Aalto.” Because of her. Because of whatever happened six months ago.

He folds his arms across his chest, and turns again to the lights of the casinos outside. They bathe his face in neons, as he closes his eyes and levels his breathing.

“Alright,” he finally concedes, though he doesn’t sound happy about it. “Stay close. I’ll keep Aalto and myself cloaked here.”

Rey glances at the Knight of Ren. Still a sore in the Force, but muted.

And she makes a promise she doesn’t always keep.

“I’ll be careful.”

  
\--

  
She doesn’t have a lot of experience getting off of planets. But she thinks of Takadona, and decides that a cantina is a good enough place to start. Thinking of Maz Kanata’s place sends a sharp, little pain of nostalgia through her. She misses Finn, and Chewbacca.

And Han.

Rey forces herself not to linger on the thought, instead rewiring her attention back to the task at hand. The thought hits her to go into The Orange Lady (Luke had said _close_ ), but its proximity to their hideout felt too dangerous. So Rey finds herself walking the length of the Corellian Sector, trying to keep inconspicuous as she moves from cantina to cantina—asking smugglers or mercenaries for passage. None are leaving _immediately,_ so it’s three attempts until she stumbles across a cantina near overflowing with people. Loud in both person and the Force—a spot of vitality.

It’s called Kessel’s Runs.

Rey’s nose wrinkles, but she moves forward. The Rodian bouncer gives her a brief look before stepping aside.

The first thing that she notices is that it’s _loud._ There’s a band in the corner, the music filtering through the air and clashing with the natural noise of the Force’s presence on the planet. There’s cheers from somewhere toward the back of the cantina, and a distorted announcer’s voice that signifies a fighting ring. Rey walks, passing pazaak and dejarik tables. It’s not unlike The Womp Rat—she even notices a few humans in mercenary gear passing each other stims.

She tries to drown it all out, to focus on the Force as a way of tethering herself down. A figurative closing of the viewport shuttles. Even still, it’s chaotic and hard for her to cast out her senses—all her mental focus turns to keeping herself centered in the body of the crowd. She shoulders past a few people, until she makes her way to the bar. It’s packed, and the one bartender looks overwhelmed, so she sits. Rey looks around, taking stock of the cantina. When the bartender passes by her, Rey sends a small, persuasive nudge through the Force and she stops.

“Yeah?”

“I’m looking for transport.”

The bartender rolls her eyes, obviously annoyed at having her work interrupted, but Rey sends her another nudge and she sighs. “There’s a crew watching the fights.” The bartender sends her an assessing look. “They’re alleged slavers, though.”

Rey scowls.

“Figured as much.” The bartender leans against the counter. “But better them than the alternative.”

“What’s the alternative?”

“Some First Order mooks said they’re offering-”

Rey’s eyes widen. “What?”

The bartender nods in commiseration. “Between you and me I don’t like that we serve them. Got enough of that shit back in the-“

But Rey doesn’t hear her. Instead, she swerves in her seat and frantically scans the crowd. After a moment, she sees them: a pair of Stormtroopers, currently circling the fighting ring. Her heart pounds.

“Is there a back exit?”

The bartender stares at her, long and hard, before sighing and jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “Go through the lounge and it’ll be past the refreshers. Let me guess, I didn’t see you?”

Rey nods. And without another word, she slides from her seat. The constant tide of people makes it easy to get lost, but she keeps turning to look at the Stormtroopers. They’re talking to the slaver crew now, no doubt asking if anyone’s taken them up on their transport offer. Rey swallows, trying to keep calm as she dances around people, making her way to the room. She finds the door and presses it open, sending another glance at the Stormtroopers.

They’re still across the cantina, completely oblivious.

Rey exhales in relief, stepping through the doors and into the lounge. It’s dark, illuminated only by some neon underlights on the furniture, and sparsely populated. The stillness of it is a welcome change from the humid, sweaty air of the cantina proper. She takes a few steps in, mind still reeling from the oversaturation of her senses. Rey presses the heel of her hand to her forehead to help drown it out, turning to find the back exit-

-and halts in her step.

Across the lounge, Kylo Ren sits on a couch, his back hunched over and his elbows resting on his knees.

Rey blinks furiously, hoping this is another strange vision. He slowly stands, and she feels the _tug_ between them. It’s not a vision.

She tenses-

“Don’t run.”

It’s been six months since she’s heard his _actual_ voice. The fact that the first thing he says is a command shouldn’t surprise her.

He crosses the room in less than a second. Until he is standing directly in front of her, his head bowed to look down.

For a moment, they just stand. Rey keeps her breathing even, tries not to give a name to whatever it is she’s feeling. It’s not terror. It’s not relief.

It’s also not nothing.

His head tilts, just a little. With the mask, it’s impossible for her to tell what he’s looking at. Once again, Rey can hear him in the Force—his heart is pounding. His emotions, as always, are difficult to pin down but she feels them—and is just as unable to put names to them as he is.

“You’ve been hiding,” he states.

She knows he doesn’t just mean today. “That’s what you do in a Resistance.”

Again, his head tilts, and this time she knows he’s looking down. “Your knee is injured.”

She tenses. “I was shot out of my fighter.”

Kylo Ren’s head snaps back up. This time, she feels his anger. At her, though she can’t say why. His hands clench into fists at his side.

“Where is the defect?” He spits out.

“We both know I’m not going to tell you.” Rey looks around. A few of the lounge residents are watching them with interest. She knows that the opportunity for fleeing is gone, and that there’s only one way this can go. “Let’s go outside.”

He stays where he is. She can feel the tension in his muscles, the strain of his hands. “Just give me what I want, Rey.”

“You’re going to kill him.” She doesn’t know if she’s asking about Aalto or Luke.

“Yes.”

She takes a shaky inhale. “Then we go outside.”

Rage and frustration spikes in the connection that they have—sharp and desperate and it almost makes her take a step back. There’s a slight tremble to his arms, like he’s holding back from lashing out.

“ _Fine._ ”

Rey nods, and calmly walks to the exit of the cantina.

\--

  
Once they cross the threshold, she ignites her lightsaber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -[T-65 X-Wing Starfighter](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/T-65_X-wing_starfighter)
> 
> -Aalto's Force presence is a watered down version of the Jedi Exile's [Wound in the Force](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Wound_in_the_Force) (more on this later ;) )


	5. Aware

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren's lightsaber is based on one of the concept designs from the TFA artbook! Rey's fighting style is based on Donnie Yen in Hero :'|
> 
> Chapter count is more of a guesstimate, but it should give an idea of where we're at in the fic!

\--

_Before._

\--

_It’s another day. The pyre is still smoldering when she leaves her Jedi trance, embers peaking out through the piles of ash. Her throat is bone dry from the smoke, and her eyes sting with the residue in the air._

_Water. Water’s next._

_She looks over her shoulder, and tries not to gasp when she sees Kylo Ren sitting behind her. His dark eyes trained on her back._

_Slowly, she shifts in her seat until they are face to face._

_His throat works, as if he’s actually swallowing down a thousand things he wants to say. Rey watches him patiently, but cautiously. She’s seen what happened when one of Bobbajo’s creatures, J’Jrrosh, had healed. The wortt had lashed out, biting anyone who came near it as it licked the wounds on its foreleg._

_Rey watches Kylo Ren, and tries to determine what course he’s about to take. He hadn’t killed her while she was in a trance, which she imagines is a good enough start._

_“Where,” his voice, if anything, sounds worse than earlier. “Is my lightsaber.”_

_She brings her knees to her chest, locking her arms around them. “Where’s the port side of my X-Wing?”_

_His red-rimmed eyes narrow at her. “This is not a game.”_

_“I’m aware, thank you.” She doesn’t have the patience for him. With no amount of guilt, she wishes he was still unconscious. He was closer to tolerable._

_“Where_ is _it?”_

 _“_ Gone, _” she hisses. It gives her some satisfaction to say it. “And don’t bother looking for it.”_

_He is so angry that it nearly radiates off of him. Rey sees the color drain from his lips as he presses them tightly together. It must sting horribly, what with the split in them, but that appears to matter less to him than making a visible demonstration of his restraint._

_Kylo Ren takes a few, labored breaths. She sees his nostrils flare as he attempts to find control. “You shot down my shuttle. Followed me. Stole my lightsaber. Kept me alive.” She realizes, suddenly, that the only reason he is not coming over to attack her is that he physically is unable to. Tension boils along every line of his body, his dark eyes bright and focused and reminiscent of the glare he sent her when they fought on Starkiller. “Is this tactic, scavenger? Or impulse?”_

_“It’s Rey.”_

_“What.”_

_“Not scavenger. Not_ girl. _Rey.” She pushes herself up into a stand, crossing the distance in the clearing because he is unable to and she wants to remind him of it. “And I saved your life when I didn’t have to.”_

_He coughs, bringing his arm up in a mechanical motion. It, too, is covered in lacerations. “Out of weakness.”_

_Rey considers this. “Maybe.” She kneels down, so they are still a foot or so apart but at eye level. “But it’s not going to be weakness that gets me off this planet. Can you fix a shuttle? Or an X-Wing?”_

_He looks up, hatred blazing in his eyes._

_She leans back, resting her elbows on her knees. “Didn’t think so.” Rey tries to fight down her nerves and apprehension. She keeps her eyes on his, like Bobbajo would do to J’Jrrosh. Stands her ground. “You’re not a threat to me right now.”_

_His lip curls up. “We’ll see.”_

_She feels a_ tug, _a light pull of the Force. The lightsaber holstered to her back rattles. She glares at him. “Don’t. Or I’ll knock you out.”_

_He shoots her a defiant look before he goes into another coughing fit. Rey tilts her head, looking at the water ration she left him the night before. It’s empty. She sighs._

_Water first._

_“Don’t ruin anything while I’m gone,” she says. Standing once more, she brushes off her pants, and starts to walk away._

_She feels his eyes trained on her with every step, like two pinpoints of light growing smaller in the distance. It’s a chance._

_\--_

_As soon as she’s out of eyesight, Rey leans back against a tree and lets go of a heavy exhale of relief, fingers trembling as she rests them on her lightsaber’s holster._

_\--_

**Now**.

\--

The alleyway is dark but for the silver light emitting from either ends of the staff. Rey keeps walking away from the door, away from Kylo. The hilt of her weapon is warm against her palms. Already, adrenaline is rushing through her—she hears the blood in her ears.

Swallowing, she finally turns around, surprised to see that Kylo Ren is simply standing there. His masked face trained on her. Time stretches, and Rey realizes he’s waiting for her to do something. It’s…unusual.

“We don’t have to fight,” she says quietly, “Just let me leave.”

“With the defect.”

“Aalto.”

His fists clench at his sides. “So you know his name.”

“I know yours, too.”

He starts to walk in a slow circle, drawing closer. She watches him move, bracing for a sudden attack. Kylo Ren stills about a foot away. “What else has he told you?”

“He thinks you’re here to kill him.”

“I am.”

“No.”

“You’re going to stop me?”

“If I have to.”

He takes a step back. “Move aside.”

She doesn’t. He finds Aalto, he finds Luke. And then it’s over—everything’s _over._

“ _Rey._ ” He doesn’t sound annoyed or frustrated anymore. There’s something else in his tone, threading its way in against either of their wishes. Rey frowns, tentatively pulling at the connection they have.

He…

Rey tenses, not sure what to make of what it is she’s feeling from Kylo, and also not wanting to believe it. This isn’t how this is supposed to go. Hope, she thinks, is never supposed to be a _bitter_ thing.

“I’m going to start walking,” she says, calmly despite the fact that her heart is in her throat. “And then it’s your choice.”

 _Brave. Be brave._ She gathers her focus as best as she can, and pivots on her heel. Her boots are light against the duracrete as she takes a step. Another. Trusting him, in a sense, with her back and being terrified of it. She wants to believe that he doesn’t want to hurt her, but he came here to kill a man and she came here to protect one and Rey understands that they would never be able to draw a clean line between them after Jagomir.

One foot in front of the other.

She can see the light from the cantina signs, hear the people walking down the promenade. There’s a strange, dizzying relief that fills her and for a moment she thinks it’s over.

Then Rey hears him give a frustrated cry, followed immediately by a sick, electrical sound. Then he yells “Stop!”

Rey doesn’t have to. She could just keep going. Keep running, lose herself in the crowd eventually. Two years ago, it’s exactly what she would have done.

But Rey’s not the no one on Jakku anymore. Now, running has consequences. Now, running can hurt people.

He waits until she turns around to swing his lightsaber.

\--

Later, she’ll think about it more. The new design is even more unstable than the last, the blade a deeper red in color and twice as wide. It’s frayed at the edges, sputtering and flickering as licks of energy hiss out—uncontrolled and unstable. The hilt she can’t even make out, only that the top of the kyber crystal is visible above Kylo Ren’s hand, buried in the heart of the red light which surrounds it like a coal in a fire.

The weapon isn’t careful. It isn’t thought out or contained. The source of its power is exposed, raw, and unpredictable. The heat from it burns his hand, his arm strains from holding it. It’s a weapon that must hurt its user as much as its opponent.

It suits him.

\--

She blocks his strike, quickly shifting her grip toward the end of her hilt. Taking a few, fast steps back she thrusts one of her staff’s blades forward in quick, jabbing motions. First, a strike at his face, then his foot, then his middle. He bats them away in heavy, lazy swings. A shower of sparks emits every time their blades connect, forcing Rey’s eyes into a squint.

On her third strike, he runs his lightsaber’s blade along her own, rotating his wrist and turning the motion—forcing her on the defensive. She shifts her hands down to the opposite end of the staff, lifting up the other blade in a swooping motion that causes him to leap back or lose his ankle-

He evades, but when he lands, she notices that his weight distribution is uneven. One leg is bent, his stance in a crouch so all of his body rests on it. The other is straightened, resting easier behind him.

…A leg injury.

Her own bad knee is starting to ache already. Rey tries to send some cooling energy to it through the Force, though she’s never been great at healing. The ache abates slightly, just in time for Kylo Ren to shift his weight and advance once more.

Kylo aims a heavy swing at her chest, which she manages to parry, even though the actual _weight_ of both his weapon and the force behind it surprises her. She pushes past the strain on her arms, moving back into offensive as she twirls her staff in a semi-circular motion. Up down up down. Head legs head legs. Again he blocks, and she decides to put more of herself into her attacks.

Rey whips her lightsaber around her waist in full circles, flashes of silver dancing in whirs in the darkness of the alley. Gritting her teeth against the pain she already anticipates coming, she moves her feet, kicking up and over in conjuncture with her weapon. Her knee screams, and Kylo Ren lets out a grunt of pain despite none of her flurries landing.

She keeps moving, quick and round patterns that are deflected by him heaving his weapon up and down. The sparks hit her skin, causing small little bites of pain as they burn her hands and arms. She sees matching, smoking holes in the fabric of Kylo’s robes.

Rey once again grits her teeth and uses the Force to help her leap, aiming one of her blades down at Kylo’s head-

He flings out his arm and her blade _bends back_. Rey quickly twists in the air, rolling when she hits the ground.

She has barely a second before he’s raising his arm again, launching a waste container at her. Rey ducks down, lifting up her lightsaber and using it and telekinesis to cleave the receptacle in half before it hits.

Her knee shakes. Kylo Ren staggers. The container falls in pieces behind her.

He lifts up his lightsaber, holding it near his masked face. “Enough of this.”

Rey pants. “Does that mean you surrender?”

“You’re injured.”

“So are you.”

He straightens, and with the motion she can tell he’s not happy she knows. Rey takes a breath, channeling the Force before she partially climbs up one of the alley’s walls, using it to kick off as she swings her lightsaber again. Again, he blocks, and the momentum of the strike has her skidding past him.

She lifts her lightsaber horizontally over her head just in time to stop his own strike. He’s behind her, bearing down on her with his weight. Her bad knee buckles, making her fall to her other, and he seems to drop too.

“ _Enough._ ” His modulated voice is right by her ear, his lightsaber sputters above her head.

“Or you’ll kill me?” She asks.

The question makes him pause, and it’s enough for Rey to grind her knee into the ground and spin out from under him. She rests her hilt along the back of her shoulders, rotating her torso until she can come down on him in another spin.

Her first blade misses. She swings it up-  
Her second blade catches his thigh.

But it’s _her_ leg that erupts in pain—hot and blistering and it’s almost as though she can smell her own burnt flesh. Rey stumbles back, looking down. The fabric covering her leg is untouched, but she _feels_ the wound.

“Do you see, Rey?” He spits out, spare hand clutching at the lightsaber wound she gave him. “You can’t-“ his spare hand turns into a fist and he slams it onto his burn. Rey cries out as the new pain hits her, and Kylo Ren startles, taking a half step back. His voice has a slight shake. “…beat me.”

Sweat runs down her neck and back. Rey doesn’t know this technique, one Luke has understandably never taught her. “What did you do?” She accuses.

Kylo Ren snorts, the sound so unexpected that Rey takes another step back. “What. Did _I_ do.”

He walks toward her, the end of his lightsaber dragging on the ground next to him. It flares, sparking a grove into the duracrete. She tenses, lifting up her staff and keeping an end pointed at him.

“Put down your weapon, Rey,” he whispers.

She readjusts her grip. “You first.”

Rey feels his aggravation through the Force, his temper spiking at her words. He lifts the lightsaber from the ground, rotating it over his head in a manner similar to Rey’s earlier move as he strikes for her head. She dodges, the muscles in her legs starting to strain. The pains from her bad knee and the phantom burn receding in the face of adrenaline.

He does it again, this time twisting his body with the motion for more momentum. Once more she dodges, though a little later, and the frayed edge of the lightsaber catches her side-

Kylo falters, leaning to his left with a gasp.  
Rey’s eyes widen. It works both ways, then.

Using the Force for extra stability, Rey digs one end of her staff into the ground and lifts her body up, swinging a flurry of kicks at Kylo Ren’s side. They connect, and he stumbles backwards. The pain in him echoes throughout her, however, and once her feet hit the ground she doubles over for breath.

“I don’t understand,” she manages, “the advantage for you.”

He’s hunched over, and his breathing is made ragged with the modulator. “You think…this is _intentional_?”

Her brows furrow. “Then what is it?”

His shoulders heave. And she braces herself as he swings again-

\--

Across the sector, Luke Skywalker’s head snaps up.

\--

-Rey holds her lightsaber up in a barricade, but he’s pushing her back. Her boots slide on the ground, and before Rey realizes it, her back is against the wall of the alley. She brings the hilt of her lightsaber to her chest, pushing out from it as leverage in an attempt to create more space.

Sparks fly, once again burning into their clothes, their skin. He looms his masked face over her.

“You can’t kill me!” He says, in a way that brings her back to the forest. _You need a teacher!_ She can picture his face perfectly, even behind the mask. “Not without killing yourself!”

She doesn’t know if she believes him. Her knee gives out again, and she sinks to the other one—causing the invisible injury on her thigh to protest.

“Surrender now or we both die!”

But she does know that _he_ believes it. Rey takes in a short breath, her eyes darting up to meet the gaze she feels. Red and silver are dancing across his mask, illuminating it. Her mind runs through the options, before settling on the only one she thinks will give her an advantage.

“Fine,” she bites out. Her thumb ghosts on the ignition, and she tries to send part of her intention through the bond.

Kylo’s relief is a palpable thing, as his arm muscles relax and his lightsaber breaks away. Rey’s arms tremble from strain now that the weight’s gone, and she stands. He watches her carefully, his weapon glowing at his side. Rey hesitantly switches off the ignition.

He thumbs his off in return. She waits for his arm to go lax, before she swings her hilt into his face with all the strength she can manage. There’s a sickening _crack,_ as the metal connects with the mask, and it shatters along very familiar fault lines. She’d aimed for where he repaired it, where it’d be weakest.

Because as Rey told him on Jagomir, _Jakku_ will always give her an edge he’ll never have.

He slowly turns his head back from the blow, half of his mask falling off and landing on the ground. He tears the rest of it off with an angry motion and Rey is not surprised to see that he’s _livid-_ her own head is ringing in a mimicry of his discomfort.

“What can’t you understand?!” He spits, somewhere between an accusation and a plea.

“Turn it off,” she demands, once again igniting her lightsaber. “Whatever technique this is, just-“

“It’s not a technique.” He approaches, his lightsaber still disengaged. “You know that.”

Rey keeps her lightsaber in front of her, but he keeps moving. Torn between either disemboweling him or turning off the weapon, she opts for the latter. He braces a fist against the wall above her head, looking down at her. She keeps her back straight and glares up.

“Tell me, then.”

Kylo Ren’s mouth pulls into a sneer. Without breaking eye contact, he uses his opposite arm to pull down the sleeve of his robe. “ _Look._ ”

She glances to her right.

Across his forearm is a burn scar, old and pink.  
And identical to the one she has.

Rey’s lips part in disbelief. “How-?”

“It showed up three months ago.” He is still staring at her, his neck craned. “Three months after that, I thought you were dead. Because I _couldn’t feel you._ ”

She tears her gaze away from his arm, looking up at him once more. His lips are pressed together tightly. His nose is nearly grazing hers.

Rey tries to make sense of it all—the connection, the shared pain. This isn’t like anything she’s ever heard before, it isn’t anything that _makes sense._ She wants nothing to do with it, and she closes her eyes, trying to shut out the presence that has been growing louder in her mind. That is practically screaming, tonight.

“That’s not enough.” He sounds just as angry and confused about it as she is. “I’ve tried. It’s not ever going to leave.”

She opens her eyes. “Then what _is_ it?”

He lowers his head-

And it drops, suddenly, to rest on her shoulder. The rest of his body follows—he collapses to his knees before he falls to the ground.

Rey blinks, turning her head.

Luke stands at the end of the alley, lowering his hand. Awkwardly, he clears his throat. “We should go.”

Her answer is a slow nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -[Bobbajo](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Bobbajo)
> 
> -[J'Rrosch](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/J%27Rrosch)
> 
> -[Kylo's crystal](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Kyber_crystal)
> 
> -[Jagomir](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Jagomir)
> 
> Rey's fighting style is inspired by Donnie Yen's fight choreography in the movie _Hero_.  
>  -[Fight scene one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AeeoEpmyb2Y)  
> -[Fight scene two](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PcmrXw0IR5g)
> 
> In this fic, she favors variations of:  
> -[Juyo](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Form_VII/Legends) (Form VII, Way of the Vornskr/Ferocity Form)  
> -[Ataru](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Form_IV/Legends) (Form IV, Way of the Hawk-Bat)
> 
> Kylo Ren favors [Niman ](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Form_VI/Legends) (Form VI, Way of the Rancor/The Moderation Form/The Diplomat's Form)


	6. Augur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, sorry for the delay! Enjoy the chapter :D

\--

_Before._

\--

_He smells._

_It’s her fifth day on the surface of this planet, and the second since his fever started. The rain is hot and miserable, its drops hitting like quick punches. On the ground, he breathes—it’s raspy, his lungs like an old door slowly swinging open. Small puddles are forming in the folds of his robes—she’d been too uncertain to remove them beyond tearing away the cowl at his neck. His sweat is sickly and sour, the distinct odor of infected wounds._

_She doesn’t know what to do. She’s out of bacta patches, and she doesn’t know if moving him is a good idea. She’d managed an impromptu shelter out of old riggings to keep the worst of the elements out, but even she knows that if something doesn’t change for the better—and soon—Kylo Ren is going to die._

_She’s uncertain how she feels about that, other than the fact that she owes it to herself, to her training as a Jedi, to the memory of the Stormtroopers she killed, to try. Helping a murderer doesn’t seem like an equivalent exchange, but it’s all she can do for now._

_He stirs, groaning. His eyes creak open, into little slits, and she sees his eyes slide back and forth—delirious. Kylo Ren’s gaze lands on her and mutters something incoherent but angry, black eyebrows furrowed._

_The fingers of his non-injured hand spread out, trying to reach something. And undoubtedly pulling open the wounds she patched._

_Rey doesn’t know why she does it, other than panic, but her fingers slide easily into his—a knife between ribs._

_“Stop moving.”_

_He does. His fingers instead clench around hers, tight enough to cause pain, before going slack._

_She looks up, and his eyes are shut again._

_\--_

_It’s the fourth day, and his fever has not broken. She’s taken enough of a chance and hauled his body into the shuttle. There’s a bench of sorts near the back of it, and she uses the Force to levitate him there. His skin is sallow, beaded with sweat. The odor of his wounds has grown fouler._

_Rey’s running out of options. She bites the inside of her cheek, watching the struggled rise and fall of Kylo’s chest. She’s not a medic._

_A thought slips into her mind, dangerous and wild. A lesson, given to her by Luke months ago—one she was never great at. One that could leave her weak._

_It’s a chance, and if she guesses wrong it’s over._

_Rey takes a deep breath, and crouches before Kylo Ren. She clears her throat, hovering her hand over his chest._

_“I want you to remember,” she says clearly, if not with a small shake to her voice. “That you don’t know how to repair this shuttle. That you need me.”_

_Her gaze flickers to his face. He’s still asleep._

_Rey closes her eyes, reaches out to the Force that surrounds them both, and_ pushes _all of her energy into the festered wounds of Kylo’s body_.

_\--_

_She wakes up on the cold, padded bench with a splitting headache. The first thing she sees is Kylo Ren staring down at her, his face troubled. Confused. Angry._

_“You healed me,” he accuses._

_Rey manages to push herself up, the heel of her hand pressing against her temple. He’s standing, still clutching his side and pale. But standing._

_“Maybe.”_

_“Why.”_

_“It was the right thing to do.”_

_“I should kill you.”_

_“But you won’t.” Rey swallows, meeting his dark, heavy gaze. It stays on her face as he waits. Evaluating._

_“Why might that be,” he asks softly._

_“Because you didn’t while I was asleep. And you need me to survive,” she says flatly. She cranes her neck until it pops, then rolls her shoulders. Everything hurts. Everything aches. “I know a lot about that, do you?”_

_He stays silent, lips pressing into a firm, pale line. Finally, his fingers curl into his palms and he turns away from her._

_“You have until the shuttle is restored, scavenger.”_

_“And then?”_

_He doesn’t answer._

_She leans back, eyes closing. “…Right.”_

_“Compassion is a weakness,” he says coldly after a few moments._

_Rey cracks an eye open, and shakes her head._

_“It’s kept_ you _alive, hasn’t it?”_

_He doesn’t have an answer for that, either._

\--

**Now.**

\--

Rey is used to silences with Luke, but the type she’s experiencing now is one she’s unaccustomed to. It’s been a tense hour, after they departed the surface of Nar Shaddaa, the lights of the city-planet’s buildings fading into pinpricks. Kylo Ren’s presence growing dimmer in her mind.

They sit in the hired transport, side-by-side, wearing hooded cloaks. Across from them, Aalto sleeps upright in his own chair, still under the influence of Luke’s Force technique. The former Knight of Ren is pale even in sleep, sweat plastering his blond hair to his head in clumps.

Her Master is withdrawn, somber. Every so often she sneaks glances at him, the downward corners of his mouth, the distant sadness in his gaze. They haven’t spoken beyond what was necessary to book a transport, and Rey has no idea how to start. Again, she’s done nothing wrong. But part of her feels guilty, as though she’s failed him somehow. And she senses Luke’s pain like a sore, the grief he’s carrying at seeing Kylo Ren again.

She leans against the wall, looking out at the stars from the viewport. Their exchange is still fresh in her mind—the matching burn scar, the pain in her thigh. The way his eyes had widened as he demanded she stopped fighting.

How part of her didn’t want to hurt him, even though she knew she had to.

An hour later, and she can’t take the silence anymore. Wringing her hands together, she turns.

“Luke, I…”

He meets her gaze. “Yes, Rey?”

She bites down on her lip. “It. It wasn’t what it looked like. We were-“

“Fighting,” Luke supplies.

Rey nods, looking at the window again.

“…would you like to talk about it?” Luke’s voice is kind, and whatever knot has been building in her throat undoes itself.

Rey fiddles with the edges of her sleeves, unsure of how to respond. “I would like to understand it.”

“The connection. With Ben.”

She swallows—it was one thing to have it to herself, a secret. To hear it voiced makes it real. The pain in her leg, from a wound that isn’t hers, flares. Rey glances at Aalto, still unconscious.

“He has one of my scars.” She pulls back the edge of her sleeve, to reveal her own version of the burn mark. “And when I wounded him…”

“You felt it,” Luke finishes with a whisper.

She nods. “How can that- how did this happen?”

Luke shakes his head. “I don’t know. But it’s not impossible. Leia could sense Han through the Force-“

Rey’s heart seems to catch in her throat.

“-and Leia and I can sense each other.”

Her shoulders relax. But a slightly less troubling thought occurs. “Kylo Ren said if one of us died…”

She feels Luke’s gaze on her, heavy and disturbed. “The other would fall.”

“He could be lying.”

“Do you think he is?”

She sighs, turning away from the viewport and resting her elbows on her knees. “No.” She looks at Luke, hoping that he understands the truth of her words. “I didn’t want this.”

He quietly throws an arm around her shoulders, much like the day after she woke up in the bacta tank. She leans into the embrace immediately, closing her eyes and trying to compartmentalize the reality of whatever their connection is. Trying to pretend it never happened, that it’s something that can be boxed up and locked away.

“I don’t think he wants it, either.” Luke keeps his eyes trained on Aalto. Even now, the unconscious defector’s energy is leaking toxic into the Force. An infected wound. “But there are some things beyond everyone’s control.”

“Do you think there’s a way to break it?” She questions, a small thread of hope worming its way through the doubts and fear.

“I don’t know.” He turns to her. “But I’ll help you try.”

Rey closes her eyes. “Alright.”

“It doesn’t have to be a burden,” Luke says gently. “Your connection…it could be something the Resistance can use.”

Rey snaps her head to Luke, betrayed and unbelieving. “You want me to manipulate him?”

He shakes his head, looking impossibly sad. “No.” His gaze goes to the viewport, where the stars are giving way to a lush, green planet. “I just want to keep people alive.”

Rey will need a moment with that. She remembers the vision she saw, of Kylo Ren going through their original transport. How such an ability might help in countless of other ways—First Order intel, warnings, operations. Spying.

She thinks about the feelings he sent her, just after waking up in the bacta tank. The panic, the anger. The self-resentment. To have that sort of insight on an enemy, especially Kylo Ren, would be invaluable to the Resistance.

But was that all he was? An enemy? Luke still called him Ben. Leia, Rey knows, still grieves for him. And he had saved her life, by ripping her out of the fighter…that he fired on.

There is no way to simplify this. But maybe there is a way to make it right, make it better.

As if sensing her unease, Luke’s quiet voice interrupts. “It’s saved your life, Rey. For now, Ben can’t kill you. That’s a good thing.”

She nods.

Her Master gives her a slow pat on the shoulder, before he stands. “We’re close to landing.”

“What’s the plan?”

“We stay in Iziz for a day or two. Find Leia’s contacts, get a shuttle back to D’Qar.”

Rey frowns, sensing something that’s not being said. “And then?”

Luke’s gaze drifts to Aalto once more. “He’s injured, and the Resistance is not the place for him to heal.”

“You can heal him?”

Luke sends her an amused look. “About as well as I can break your bond to Ben. But I’m going to give it a shot.” She hears the sympathy in his tone. “He’s in considerable pain.”

That, she won’t argue with. However… “And if he doesn’t want to be healed?”

“We’ll have to find out when it happens.”

At her incredulous look, Luke shrugs. For the first time since knocking Kylo Ren out in the alley, the barest hint of a smile forms on his face. “I make up a lot of this as I go along.”

Rey smiles back, unable to help herself. “Right.”

\--

Iziz, in a strange way, reminds her of the Niima Outpost. While the main city of Onderon, with its high walls and white marble, looks nothing like where Rey grew up, there is something reminiscent to Jakku in the flow of the city square. Ships come and leave with alarming frequency, there are more hotels than homes. This is not a place where people are meant to _stay._

Although, unlike at Nar Shaddaa, people _do_ stare at the unconscious man slung around hers and Luke’s shoulders. Between her and her Master, there is a lot of discrete hand waving and gentle coercion to look away. The quarters Luke secures are positioned near the palace, and Rey’s eyes widen as she looks up and sees the skyway. Iziz is beautiful, but not in the way Nar Shaddaa is—the vitality here is of a different sort, easier to ignore in the Force.

The room only has one bed, which Luke immediately puts Aalto on. It doesn’t bother her—she and Luke have spent many a night in the ruins simply meditating in order to rest. Luke sends her a glance.

“Now or later?””

She looks at Aalto, still breathing heavily, still feverish. It reminds her, uncomfortably, of a different Knight of Ren in a widely different situation. “Now.”

Luke closes his eyes, outstretching his hand-

And Aalto springs awake with a huge, gasping breath—the sound of which makes Rey cringe. His pale, bloodshot eyes dart around the room until they stop on her.

“ _You_ -!” He spits, but Luke stops him cold.

“Aalto.”

The man stills at the voice, pale and sweat-soaked face turning to face Rey’s master. His lips are near colorless as he makes a slow show of licking them, fingers tightening into the fabric covering his thighs. Rey’s eyes dart nervously to Luke, surprised to see the stony expression on his face. It’s unfamiliar, but not unnatural. Luke’s shoulders are straightened, held back. His chin is tilted up. In that moment, the similarity to his sister is obvious.

Aalto’s pale eyes lock on him. And for a moment, Rey feels almost as though she is intruding—seeing something she isn’t meant to see.

“…Master Luke.” His voice is sardonic, bitter. “Where they dig you out of?”

Rey frowns, anger flaring at the derision aimed at Luke. But she feels Luke warn her off through their Force connection.

_It’ll be fine, Rey._

_…Okay._

“It’s been a while.” Luke’s voice is polite. But distant, cold.

“Bet you want to kill me.” Aalto _smirks,_ his words like jagged edges. “Bet you want to take that lightsaber on your hip and jab it _straight through my chest_.”

“Vengeance is not the way of the Jedi.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t want it.” Rey tenses when the Knight turns to her, smiling with all of his teeth. “We all got a little dark in us, don’t we? Even precious Master Luke Skywalker-“

“You don’t know me.” Rey keeps her words even, despite her irritation at the man.

Aalto snorts. “I _was_ you.”

“You are under our protection,” Luke says flatly, rehearsing a script. “We will be leaving within a standard day back to the Resistance headquarters, where you will be expected to cooperate with General Organa’s intelligence team.”

Once again, Aalto becomes bird-like. His gaze darts around the room, his teeth lightly chatter against each other. “And if I don’t?”

“You’re no worse off than where you started.” Luke’s threat is mild, but it makes Aalto sneer.

“Right,” he spits. The fingers tighten in the fabric of his pants. There’s a mild tremor to them.

Rey’s seen something like it, back at the Niima Outpost. One of the freight haulers had fired a woman before leaving Jakku for working under spice, and she had stayed at the Outpost—sweating out the drug for days.

“We might be able to help you,” she blurts. “Whatever it is that’s happening, we can…”

Aalto’s eyes roll up to her. Again, she’s struck by the near colorless quality of them. Everything about Aalto Ren seems washed out and pale. “Oh? And how you going to do that, little Jedi girl?”

Rey keeps her gaze trained on him. And senses that underneath the bitterness, the dark, twisted wound that’s taken over his presence in the Force, there’s a tiny, flickering spot of desperation. Maybe even hope.

“I don’t know. But we’ll try.” She senses Luke’s approval through the Force, though she can tell that the offer is difficult for him to give. “You’re…ill. The Jedi heal.”

Aalto stares at her for a long time. His hands twitch. His pale eyes dilate, go unfocused and Rey sends Luke a worried glance. Her Master’s expression is flat, distant. But troubled.

“You’re…her.” Aalto mutters, and Rey snaps her attention back to him. His voice fades into a whisper, lost to a conversation somewhere else. “I’ve seen you before.”

Rey tenses. Her hand drifts to the holster of her lightsaber.  “Where.”

“The jungle.” His lip twitches, pulling over and over again at one side. “You’re gonna be the death of him.”

“Of who.” Luke takes a step closer to her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Aalto’s voice is as distant as his stare. “Cut her, and he’ll bleed.” He blinks, and he’s _present_ once again, a toothy and wide smile breaking across his face—forming strained dimples in his cheeks. After a moment, he takes in the troubled expressions of both Rey and Luke and laughs, a raspy and dry sound that echoes throughout the room.

“ _Rey._ ” He says her name like it’s a wonder, like it’s the funniest joke in the universe. “You and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”

A chill works its way down her spine, from neck to shoulders. A bad feeling in the Force. Torn between drawing back and stepping forward, she instead shifts until she’s sitting on the opposite edge of the bed. With a tentative movement, she grabs his twitching hand. It’s wet with sweat, lukewarm to the touch, and the contact makes him flinch.

“Help General Organa.” She uses the same tone she used so very long ago, when she commanded a stormtrooper to leave his weapon behind.

Aalto’s mouth curls up in an unsettling grin. “If that’s what you’d like, scavenger girl.”

Rey forces herself to count to three before she withdraws her hand from his, feeling somewhat sick at the contact. The miasma around Aalto thickens and chokes, a hole draining all of the water to it.

“What’s happened to you?” Rey asks.

“I…” Sweat falls from his forehead and neck, stains the collar of his shirt. “Became a Knight of _Ren_.”

She wants to ask him something else, to figure out how he knows her, when Luke squeezes her shoulder.

“A word.”

Rey sends a look to Aalto. His pale eyes are unfocused, staring at something beyond the four walls of the room. She _knows,_ somehow, that he isn’t going to run. Or move. She follows Luke out to the balcony of the room, and only then does she let her uncertainty show.

“How does he-?”

“Aalto was one of my first students.”

Rey stares at Luke, who, like her, is now wearing his uncertainty on his face.

“But he’s…a Knight of Ren.”

“Yes.” The one syllable holds a lot of pain.

Rey closes her eyes, as she realizes what that means. “I’m sorry.”

Luke takes a long breath through his nose. “He was never strong in the Force, except for one area.” He walks to the railing, braces his mechanical hand there. “Aalto was gifted with Force Visions, stronger than anyone I’ve met before besides Yoda. It made him erratic and often confused. Always afraid.”

“So he fell.” Rey finishes softly.

“He was swayed,” Luke corrects. “He was young, and vulnerable, and I didn’t want to see what was happening on Yavin. I failed him, left my other students exposed.”

She doesn’t think they’re only talking about Aalto now.  “What do you want to do, Luke?”

He’s silent as he contemplates. When he speaks again, he sounds unsure. It reminds her of their first meeting, back on Ahch-To. “I don’t know.” He exhales. “One of us will have to stay here, the other make contact with Resistance agents.”

Rey nods. She doesn’t volunteer one way or the other, the confrontation with Kylo Ren still fresh in her mind.

Luke looks out, and Rey follows his gaze. Watching the flow and ebb of Iziz’s marketsquare. It’s quieter and simpler than that of Nar Shaddaa. Almost normal.

“Stay with Aalto,” he finally decides.

Rey knows she shouldn’t feel disappointment, but she does. He doesn’t trust her to go back out, after what happened—

“No, Rey. It’s not that.” His mechanical fingers clench around the railing, his other hand lifts up his hood. “It’s that I don’t trust myself to stay here.”

Rey’s eyes widen with the realization, the simmering hurt and grief that lay underneath the surface of Luke’s calm. And she understands.

“I’ll watch him.”

“Thank you. I won’t be long.”

\--

“It’s getting stronger, isn’t it?”

Rey’s been trying to keep contact with their guest to a minimum, attempting and unsuccessfully meditating in the middle of the floor. She doesn’t answer Aalto, though she feels his stare pinpointed between her shoulder blades.

“I bet you hear it, now. I bet it sings.”

Whatever compassion she felt for this twisted man has been dimmed with the revelation that he betrayed Luke. And any urge to talk to him lessened with the knowledge that he has the ability to _see_ things she’d rather not think about.

But he’s right. She does hear it. Across the galaxy, she hears Kylo Ren—loud.  
Hurt.

**_You left_ **

She doesn’t answer him. The accusation just hangs in the air.

“What’s it like?” Aalto croaks with ill-humor, “To hear your enemy in the Force? To hear _Kylo Ren_ -“

“Shut it.”

“So there is a limit to the calm of a Jedi in training! I was worried you were as boring as Luke-“

“Don’t talk about Luke.”

“Or?”

“I’ll knock you unconscious.”

There’s a shift, and before Rey can break out of her meditation position, Aalto sits in front of her. He still looks like raw bantha fodder, but there’s a little more life to him now—some color to his features, though his eyes are still nearly white. He props a leg up, resting his elbow on one knee as he watches her. Assessing. She’s used the same stare on engines.

**_Where are you_ **

Rey clenches her jaw. Sends Aalto a glare that she hopes communicates her complete desire to not speak with him.

“The air’s thick with threads,” Aalto says, amused. “I see them, strings to strings. I can see the whole galaxy.” He leans forward, she resists the urge to cringe. “Want me to tell you where yours go?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I wouldn’t believe you anyway.”

He snorts, leaning back. “Fair.”

**_Where are you. Show me_ **

She bites the inside of her cheek. His hawk-like features are void of any tells. He just watches her.

“What?” She finally demands.

“I’m waiting.”

“For.”

“Him to see.”

Her heart seems to roll in her chest. She furrows her brows. “See what.”

“Your room. He’ll try, soon enough.” Aalto’s eyes go wide, and she sees a fresh sweat break out on his brow—little drops of condensation. “That’s how I’ve survived, you know. I _watch._ A step ahead, maybe two. But nothing goes good forever.” He smiles, as though he knows her. As though they’re friends, chatting over the acid baths. “You know that a little better than most, don’t you Rey?”

“What do you want, Aalto.”

“Same as you, scavenger girl.” He leans forward and her nose wrinkles. “I want to _survive._ ” He moves until his mouth hovers by her ear—a conspirator, sharing a secret. “You’ll want to close your eyes—he’s going to peek.”

Rey hates that she listens to him. But she does, and almost a second later she feels that familiar _pull._ The emotions that are not her own, roiling through. Kylo Ren’s presence is there, burning and angry. She knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he is looking for her. That he isn’t going to stop, until he resolves whatever puzzle it is between them.

**_REY_ **

She tenses.

“Go ahead and answer him,” Aalto instructs, leaning back to his original spot. “Don’t open your eyes.”

She inhales shakily. And, for the first time, says something back.

_Kylo._

It’s silent, for a moment. Then he returns—what once was merely impressions, or feelings, has become clearer. It’s as though he were the one right by her ear, whispering to her in a language only the two of them can understand.

_Where are you_

Rey’s fingers twitch. She thinks of an answer.

_Safe. Don’t try to find me._

With a strong thought, she closes the door between them. Once she’s sure Kylo isn’t attempting to see what she sees, she opens her eyes again.

“Very good, scavenger girl.” Aalto drums his fingers, once again going pale. “Let’s have a deal, just me and you.”

She doesn’t trust deals. Never has, never will. “For?”

“I tell you when he’s coming. I help you learn about your bond.” Aalto runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “And you…”

She narrows her eyes, waits for the price.

“Owe me a favor,” he finally settles on.

“No,” she says instantly, closing her eyes and trying to resume meditation.

He scoffs, dry and brittle. “Luke can’t help you with this. He doesn’t _know,_ and he can’t see like I can.” Aalto shifts, and Rey thinks he’s standing up. “You’ll change your mind.”

Rey tries to summon calm. Serenity. Anything to help her distance herself from the man who already knows too much and the voice that echoes in her head.

Aalto’s voice is soft, almost gentle. “I know you will.”

She finds it, that place of tranquility, and soon Aalto, the room, and everything else fades away.

Nearly everything else.  
Because even in the Jedi trance, Rey feels  _him._ A dull, muted presence—like the back sound of her own heartbeat. And she knows he feels her too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -[NeitiCora](http://neiticora.tumblr.com/) has drawn beautiful fanart of the opening scene [here!](http://neiticora.tumblr.com/post/142858433256/the-death-of-kylo-ren-by-gizkasparadise-he)
> 
> -Aalto is inspired by [Leoben Conoy](http://en.battlestarwiki.org/wiki/Number_Two) from Battlestar Galactica. He's a fun guy :'D
> 
> -Formerly in training as a [Jedi Seer](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Jedi_Seer), Aalto has some unique Force powers:  
> -[Force Visions](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Force_vision/Legends)  
> -[Battle Precognition](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Precognition)  
> -and some others that'll come up in future chapters :3
> 
> -[Force Healing](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Force_healing)
> 
> -[Onderon](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Onderon)
> 
> -[Iziz](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Iziz)


	7. Alderaan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings** for animal death in this chapter! Also more of a Before storyline than usual-- this is somewhat of a Transitional chapter, hope you enjoy!

_\--_  
Before.  
\--

_It’s been an uneasy coexistence, since they both silently resolved not to kill one another. Kylo Ren keeps to his side of the shuttle, as if there were an invisible line which divided the two of them, and speaks only when he wants something. Usually starting with “Scavenger.”_

_Silence has never bothered Rey before, but there’s something different to being ignored._

_It’s been about eight days since she landed here, and three since they’ve managed this strange sort of cohabitation. She keeps herself busy with repairs, and she doesn’t know what he does all day except glare at the walls or glare at the foliage. Gradually, it occurs to her that Kylo doesn’t know what to_ do _with himself when he’s not preoccupied ruining galactic civilization._

_Rey’s never had that problem. She’s always had work._

_She solders two wires together. She’s not sure when it became assumed that she would work on the shuttle instead of the X-Wing, that she would have a passenger. But at this point, she’s spent too much kriffing energy on keeping Kylo Ren alive to leave him here._

_What comes next, she has no idea. She doesn’t try to plan too far ahead—that way usually leads to disappointment. So instead, Rey focuses on what she can and control._

_She can’t control what Kylo Ren decides to do._  
_She can fix propulsion systems._  
_She can’t control whether or not he signals the First Order the second they get to atmo._  
_But she can control that they’re almost out of food._

_Rey blows on the red-hot wires, more of a habit than something necessary, and pivots on the backs of her heels to face Kylo. Her brows lift when she realizes that he’s already staring at her—for who knows how long. His eyes are dark and focused, trained on her hands. Did he think she was going to blow them up? Rey shakes the thoughts from her mind, clearing her throat._

_“We’re almost out of food.”_

_He lifts his gaze from her hands to her eyes. “So.”_

So. _Unbelievable._

 _She parts her mouth in annoyance. “_ So _go hunt.”_

_“And leave you with the shuttle.”_

_“It’s half submerged in swamp water.”_

_He stands, taking long strides until he stands over her. She glares up at him. It doesn’t matter if he can_ loom, _she’s used to that. She’s also used to bullies, and she knows not to be intimidated by them._

_“You hid my lightsaber.”_

_She swallows, deciding to make a day of it. There’s been tension boiling under their skins for days—it’s time to make an outlet for it. “I destroyed it, actually.”_

_His nostrils flare. “What?”_

_“Your lightsaber. I destroyed it.”_

_Her glare softens, as the emotions on his face flicker. She expects the anger, but there’s also a despondency to it. She feels as though she’s back on Jakku, accidentally kicking one of BobbaJo’s fluffy pets. She won’t feel bad about it—she’s certain that if he had his weapon, it would have been an endless duel until one of them was dead. But she didn’t expect this quiet reaction: slumped shoulders, slightly jutting chin. Loose fists._

_“How.” He finally manages, an edge back into his voice that is at odds with the softness of his face._

_“Fire.”_

_Without another word, he turns—stomping down the gangway in heavy, echoing movements. Not sure what to do, Rey hesitantly sets down the emergency plasma torch and follows him._

_He’s standing at the pyre site, hand angrily outstretched. After a moment, there’s a red glint as something flies through the ashes and into his palm. She puzzles it out, realizing that he has retrieved the crystal. It makes her uncomfortable, as she watches him stare at it. It’s like a promise that after they get off this swamp, things will go back to normal. They’ll go back to trying to hurt each other._

_She leans against the gangway, grease-coated arms crossed over her stomach. Her eyes follow him as he stands there for moment, then turns and makes his way over to her. She doesn’t move, and he doesn’t stop, and eventually he’s standing over her once more, gloved hand coated in ash._

_She looks up. He glares down. And for some reason, she imagines that she can feel what he’s feeling. Frustration, mostly. At being stranded with his enemy, with no way to make it back to the Order without her help. He_ knows _helplessness, and it’s a poisonous feeling he doesn’t wish to keep._

_And maybe he can feel what she’s feeling, too. That she’s just as frustrated, and conflicted and guilty. That she doesn’t want to be here anymore than he does, that she’s already tired of fighting but knows that is the path she must walk along because of who she is and what she can do._

_They are in each other’s lives, for now. Sharing the same orbit. Rey is no longer afraid, just tired. He swallows, and she senses the outburst burning dormant in him._

_There’s a soft creak as he tightens his gloved hand._

_“I’ll hunt,” he says softly._

_Rey nods._

_He leans down, their noses almost brushing._

_“But you’re coming with me.”_

_She closes her eyes, and tries to think of alternatives. Contingencies. Eventually, she sighs._

_“Alright.”_

_\--_

_The swamplands eventually give way to more firm ground, though the air is still miserably humid. Rey’s hair sticks to her forehead and neck, and she eventually surrenders the bindings around her arms and her outer vest, pulling them into her pack. Kylo stubbornly clings to his heavy robes for an hour after she takes off her armor, but eventually takes off the belt and outer layers until he is only in a tunic and pants. He looks…smaller, without them. Which is ridiculous. But there’s truth to it._

_Rey quiets her mind, using the Force to divert the insects who attempt to swarm them. While neither have open wounds, their sweat is enough to attract irksome attention. The wet terrain eventually turns to waist-high blades of grass—sharp on the edges. She follows Kylo, as he parts them using telekinesis, and sinks her smaller feet into the footsteps he creates in the muck._

_“What are we looking for.”_

_She’s starting to realize he never asks things as questions. Rey draws the back of her hand across her forehead. “Anything that isn’t brightly colored, I imagine.”_

_“Poison.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_The walk inland is long, and silent. She’s acutely aware of him, watching every movement he makes for tells. He doesn’t need to wave his hands as he strides forward in order to move things, and she realizes that his telekinetic abilities have an edge over her. After an hour or so, there’s a rustling noise in the distance. Kylo crouches down, and Rey follows the motion, eyes scanning ahead._

_A pack of…she thinks they’re somewhat similar to cannoks, though larger, are feeding on sunken logs. The sounds are disgusting, to say the least—slobbery and crunching, like a pack of pitdogs. Kylo sends her a glare._ Well?

 _Rey inhales. Her hand slides up her back, until it disengages her lightsaber from its holster. His dark eyes stay on her, until she finally shoots him an annoyed look. His response is only a slowly raised brow. Sighing, she creeps forward, drawing her weapon with one arm behind her back. The_ snap-hiss _of its ignition is as loud as a breaking twig, and a dozen or so yellow, drooling heads jerk up in her direction._

_Kark it—she’s not a hunter. But she can fight. Using the Force, she leaps until she’s in the middle of the pack, and starts to swing her double-bladed weapon. The cannoks immediately congregate around her, large, many-toothed mouths snapping at the air too close to her skin. She swings, rotating her arms faster and faster as she hopes to get them all before she can get her—there’s a sting as one of the cannok-like creatures digs into her thigh, and she spins around to kick it in the face—_

_And suddenly there’s the sharp sound of a whine. It’s simultaneous, all ten of the remaining dog-creatures yelp as they go still. After a moment, they all lower their heads to the ground in front of her—a bizarre play on a bow. Rey’s wide eyes drift across the grass, to where she sees Kylo standing with his hand outstretched. He meets her gaze, and Rey feels a strange pull when he does. Maintaining eye contact with her, he curls his fingers into his palm—one by one by one._

_The cannoks drop to the ground. She knows without looking that they’re dead._

_Rey tenses, her thumb slowly sliding off the ignition. Kylo Ren only lowers his hand when the silver blades retract._

_She doesn’t know what to make of the circle of dead animals around her. Had he been making a display of his power? Or had he been…_

_She swallows. Trying to help. The latter prospect is more worrying, when she thinks of the whines the creatures made before their deaths._

_He walks forward. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and Rey does not return her lightsaber to its holster. Kylo stops when he reaches the border of the cannoks, toeing one absently with his boot._

_“Dinner.”_

_\--_

_She spends hours skinning and packing up the meat. It’s rubbery, with a consistency that reminds her a little more of fish than meat. Kylo doesn’t try to hide his annoyance as she goes and cleans every cannok—the sheer amount is more than they need. But Rey knows what happens to things if you leave them laying around. Even a swamp has scavengers, and they’ll take what they need if she doesn’t take it first._

_Eventually, he realizes that helping her will get them moving sooner. He does what he can, but it’s obvious to her that he’s not used to hunting or cleaning his own meals. She thinks about him again, staring at the wall or pacing in the shuttle. He’s really only had one thing to do in life—to kill, or train, or be great and terrifying. This person, here, is new to things._

_“Not there,” she instructs, grabbing his wrist before she can think about it and repositioning it at a different cutting point. He sends her a wary look, as though no one’s ever voluntarily grabbed him, and certainly never voluntarily_ corrected _him. She shrugs. “Less splatter.”_

_They work together in a silence that is still tense, but somewhat more amicable in that she doesn’t think he’s about to Force choke the life from her. Sometimes she’ll grab his arm or hand and move it, sometimes she’ll scold. But Kylo Ren, for all his faults, is a quick student. By the time they get to the tenth cannok, he can clean it without her assistance._

_She sags onto the ground, exhausted. Her thigh, where one of the cannok’s got her, is throbbing. She peels apart the section of her pants that’s torn, and uses precious water to clean off the blood. The gouges are deep, but that’s it—irritating, not mortal._

_Kylo Ren stares at her injury and frowns. “Heal it.”_

_She shoots him a glare. “I’d love to.” Did he think she would rather have a torn up leg?_

_“Then do it.”_

_She shakes her head, tearing off the leg of her pant. “I might pass out again.”_

_His eyes narrow, slightly. He scrutinizes her as she takes the fabric from her pants and wraps it around her leg. As if she were about to make a weapon out of it, or set it on fire and throw it at him._

_“You don’t want to heal yourself…because you’ll faint.”_

_She doesn’t think she appreciates his tone. Her eyes dart up from her task, as her fingers expertly tie a strong knot. “I’ve had worse from falls. Let’s get up and get going.”_

_Truth be told, she has no idea what will happen if she attempts to heal herself. She’s never tried it before. The ways of the Force are still relatively new to her, and the last thing she wants to do is practice in front of him. Things are awful enough without him offering to teach her once again, or passing out and leaving herself exposed to the man who was able to stop ten hearts simultaneously._

_He’s a threat, a predator. And Rey’s not going to expose her belly for him._

_She lifts one of the packs of meat, tied together with tarp, onto the sled she’s fashioned out of her X-Wing’s old viewport. She lifts another, and another, turning to Kylo to ask him to hold his weight when she notices that he is holding something in his hands._

_Her lightsaber._

_Rey freezes, and very slowly drops the cannok meat onto the sled. She straightens her shoulders and draws them back in an attempt to look taller, her chin tilted up._

_“Give that back,” she says carefully._

_Kylo doesn’t look away from her lightsaber, the length of it looking shorter in his hand. He rotates it, eyes narrowed as he observes the carbon scoring on the metal of the hilt, the scoffed quality to the lenses. His wrist slowly rotates, tilting it up and Rey’s heart becomes a rabbit._

_“Kylo.” She extends her hand._

_“It would be fair…” he says softly. “If I kept this.”_

_“Don’t.” She hates that it comes out as a whisper._

_His dark eyes flicker to her, amused. “Why not?”_

_She doesn’t want to tell him about the parts. What they mean to her. He doesn’t get to learn those sorts of things, shouldn’t get to understand what matters in her life._

_Rey calls it to her with the Force, but Kylo’s hand grips it tighter. This is about to get ugly very, very quickly and she’s already injured._

_“Give it back,” she says again, trying to keep her voice level and failing._

_Kylo runs his fingers over it, delicate and light. Like it’s a figurine, and not a relatively ugly hunk of metal and bits. It doesn’t feel right, to see him touching it. The lightsaber is one of the few things that is exclusively_ hers.

_“Why aren’t you using my grandfather’s lightsaber?” He asks._

_Rey doesn’t drop her hand. “I returned it.”_

_“To Luke.”_

_“Yes.”_

_Kylo sneers. “That wasn’t yours to give. Just like_ my _lightsaber wasn’t yours to destroy.”_

_“I don’t want to fight.”_

_“Then you never should have built one!” His eyes seem to flash as his mouth contorts into a grimace. He’s so angry, and she doesn’t understand why. All she knows is that she wants her weapon out of his hand._

_She decides to give a trade. Offer a weakness of her own for the countless he’s given away since she landed. Rey steadies her breathing, and keeps calm as she explains._

_“My blade is silver.”_

_“I’ve noticed.” He is nearly shaking, his grip on her hilt is so tight. For a moment, she has the bizarre fear that he’ll crush it._

_“It’s powered by a gemstone from Alderaan,” she whispers._

_He recoils, glancing down at the lightsaber as though it has suddenly become a livewire. When he looks up, she does not know what to make of his expression. He is raging. Sad. Lost. Hurting. Disgusted. She can feel the emotions swirl around him, as though he’s a singularity._

_Rey stands her ground. Keeps her arm extended._

_Finally he looks away, tossing the hilt at her. She catches it._

_“Keep it.” He spits, bending down to pick up another pack. Without looking at her, he starts walking in the direction back to the clearing._

_She stares at his retreating back, and feels that something has once again shifted underneath her feet._

_\--_

**Now.**

\--

“Do you think he cares about you?”

Rey doesn’t look away from the wires that hover above her face, though her hands pause. Aalto’s boots are visible underneath the edge of the speeder she’s currently under. They’ve been back at D’Qar for a little over two days, and so far the former Knight of Ren has been following her around like an errant astromech. Not for the first time, her heart aches for Finn, Poe, or BB-8, but all of her friends are currently deployed for a recon mission. Even Leia is gone from base, attending to a shipping emergency on one of the other Resistance friendly planets.

Leaving just her. Luke. And Aalto.  
And most of the Resistance. It still doesn’t feel like enough of a buffer.

After a long moment, Rey simply decides to pick up the hydrospanner again. She works to loosen the paneling beside the faulty wiring. It’s become a coping process—whenever she works with machines, it’s easier to tune the rest out.

“That’s how they work, you know. Force bonds.”

She rips off a sheet of metal. “What do you want.”

She hears the muted sound of his chattering teeth. “Conversation, scavenger girl. Care to oblige?”

She doesn’t. She wants Leia to come back so they can question him, then send him on his way. She wants nothing to do with the Knight of Ren who can supposedly see the paths of the Force. She fires up the plasma torch, melting away old casings.

“That’s a no, isn’t it?”

“I’m not making any deals with you.”

“Not yet.”

Rey exhales, lowering her sore, strained arms. Her fingers dance across her tools until she finds the right one to scrape the build-up of the exhaust. Her skin nearly crawls when she feels an odd jolt through the Force. Cold, then gone. A brief flicker of sensation, not unlike getting shocked by static.

“Do you want to talk to me now?” Aalto whispers.

_Who is that_

Kylo is there once more, loud and pervasive. Rey squeezes her eyes shut, and realizes that it’s too late—he’s seen what she’s seen, heard what she’s heard.

 “Tell him.” Aalto’s voice is closer, and Rey turns her head. After a moment and a breath, she opens her eyes, not surprised to see that Aalto’s face is aligned with hers, about a foot away.

There aren’t any words, exactly, but there is the familiar pull of his anger and hatred.

Aalto grins—he is still washed out and pale, but the sweating has become less profuse. “What’s he say?”

Rey swallows, slowly rolling out from underneath the speeder. She wipes her hands on a nearby rag.

Aalto rushes over to kneel in front of her, and she’s unsettled by the energy that reverberates around him—the swirling toxicity of his Force presence mixed with something else she can’t identify.  He grabs her shoulder.

“ _What’s he say_?”

Rey shoves his hand off of her and stands. “ _None_ of your business.”

“You want me to help you, scavenger girl.” Aalto doesn’t stand, instead he just stares ahead—addressing the empty space she’s left behind. “You really do. We’re about to become very important to each other, Rey.”

Rey sends him an uneasy, parting glance, before she walks away.

\--

She gets to her quarters, and rests her head against the wall. Her eyes close.

 _Don’t do that!_ She orders through the bond, if that’s what it’s called. _Don’t spy, don’t look._

There is no response, just a simmering annoyance. She sinks until she sits against the door, resting her elbows on her knees. Eventually, his voice sounds in her ear, cold and hateful.

_Kill him_

She snorts. _No._

_Kill him, or you’ll regret it_

Rey is silent. She doesn’t like that he sounds so…

Concerned.

She opens her eyes. There’s no one in the room with her, but she can almost see him—standing in his shuttle, looking out at the galaxy. “The Jedi don’t kill.”

_Make an exception_

Rey lets out a hiss of breath. “We can’t do this, Kylo.”

Before he can respond again, she closes her eyes and closes the curtain—he vanishes from her mind, and their shared whispers dim.

An hour or so later, she has an ache in her hands and looks down to see the knuckles scabbed over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The beasts on Jagomir are like super-sized [Cannoks](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Cannok)
> 
> -Rey's lightsaber crystal comes from [The Crown Jewels of Alderaan](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Crown_Jewels_of_Alderaan) because of Rule of Cool


	8. Ache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three things!
> 
> 1\. There are new tags! They are a little spoilery for the endgame, but I wanted to make sure everything was mapped out so readers know what they're in for. I want to emphasize that there hasn't been any memory loss or memory alteration so far in the fic
> 
> 2\. This is the last set-up chapter! More Kylo coming your way next update B)
> 
> 3\. Thanks to boots for the tag "Strung-Out Force Prophecy" :'D

_\--_  
Before.  
\--

_Her boot sinks far too deeply into the muck and she staggers. Her vision is edging—clear, fuzzy, clear—as though her eyes keep sliding. Where she’s bandaged her leg is numb, but when she looks down she sees it stained in red, with yellow edges._

_Infected, she thinks._  
  
_But that’s not quite right. Her eyes slide away again, her ears ring._

_Poison. The cannok-like creature poisoned her. Rey staggers again, this time dropping to her good leg. Her grip on the sled goes slack, as she stares at the mud and reeds in front of her. She tries to lift her hands, but can’t because she doesn’t feel those nerves right now._

_“Scavenger.”_

_She thinks she’s swaying where she kneels, about to tip over. Her head is starting to spin._

_“Rey?”_

_Her eyes slide. She doesn’t know he’s there until his hand is on her shoulder—she feels his fingertips, pressing down too hard on her skin._

_Rey can’t speak, but she tries something else._

Poisoned, _she whispers across his mind._

_“Why didn’t you say something? It’s been over an hour-”_

_Rey falls facedown to the ground._

_\--_

_Before it goes dark, she is reasonably sure he is going to leave her there._

_\--_

_Consciousness flickers back in a short burst. She’s disorientated and disassociated from all of her limbs, but she thinks she’s being carried—she feels an arm around her shoulders, a hand under her knees. There’s the echo of a heartbeat in her ear._

_“Not…again…” she manages, trying to open her eyes._

_There’s a pull, and it’s dark once more._

_\--_

_When she wakes again, she’s no longer being carried. The sun hits her eyes, making her vision a field of pink, and she groans. Her stomach feels like pure bile, cold sweat has soaked her under tunic, and her leg is throbbing in pain. With a pull of desperation, she opens her eyes and attempts to sit._

_Immediately her head spins, and she has to lay back down._

_“Sleep well?”_

_Rey’s brows furrow together and she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Water.”_

_A gloved, black hand presses a canteen into her palm. He holds it there until her still-numb fingers can catch a grip, only withdrawing once she lifts it to her lips. The water is tepid, but the best thing she’s ever had as it slides cool down her throat. The bile in her stomach abates, and after a breath she attempts to sit up again._

_The shuttle around her still spins. Rey slams her eyes closed._

_“What happened?”_

_“You were almost killed.” His voice is so scathingly judgmental Rey almost hopes she’ll fall unconscious again. “By a cannok.”_

_“They weren’t quite cannoks,” she mutters. And takes a breath. “I meant why am I…”_

_“Alive?”_

_“Alive.”_

_He’s silent for so long that Rey’s able to find an equilibrium in her mind. Vertigo fading, she opens her eyes to see him sitting at the other end of the bench. His gaze trained on her leg. She follows it, surprised and uneasy to see new bandages around her thigh._

_“You…”_

_“_ Cannoks _don’t get to be what kills you.”_

_The words are tight and strained. And Kylo Ren meets her gaze for a moment before he sneers, standing up and making a quick exit from the shuttle._

_She waits until she knows he’s outside to undress her wound. After she unwinds the last length of bandage, her eyes widen._

_Where there had been a nasty gash, there’s now nothing but a scar—it’s ugly, ragged and slightly purple in hue. But it looks like it’s been there for weeks, not hours._

_Rey’s fingers trace over it._

_Kylo Ren had used the Force to heal her._

_\--_  
**Now.  
** \--

 

“I leave you alone for a week.” Leia’s wry tone has an undeniable edge of fatigue to it, as she brings up a cup of caf to her lips.

Rey doesn’t say anything, her eyes going to Luke. Her master sits next to the general in almost an inverse image-- his shoulders hunch forward and his elbows rest on the table, while her back is ramrod straight and her sip quiet. Rey sits with her arms crossed over her chest, uncertainty and nerves playing equal parts within her. It’s getting harder and harder to drown him out—to push Kylo Ren away and to have her mind all to herself.

Even at the thought, there’s a jolt of defensiveness. He wants her to know it’s not his fault, that _she’s_ just as responsible and just as _loud_ in his head.

Rey doesn’t care. She closes her eyes and tries to slam the curtain shut. It needs more and more energy lately.

“So,” Leia shoots a glance at Luke, “Which crisis would you like to start with?”

He rubs his beard. “Aalto.”

“Easy one first?”

“Might as well.”

“Alright.” Leia sets down her cup, and nods to Rey. “Go ahead and give me the update.”

At first Rey hesitates, unsure of why Leia is asking her and not Luke for the debriefing. But then it occurs to her that this is Leia’s subtle way of showing that Rey is still welcome at this table, that no matter what is happening between her and Kylo Ren in the Force, her loyalty is clear. Rey swallows, and gives an earnest nod of gratitude before starting.

“I don’t like him,” she says simply.

Leia fails to hide the smirk behind her cup. “Go on.”

“He’s…” Rey drums her fingers along her biceps. “Unstable. I don’t know how to read him or guess at his intentions.”

“He is healing though,” Luke clarifies, eyebrows furrowed. “Whatever it is that’s been affecting his presence in the Force, it’s diminishing. Purging.”

Rey tilts her head, acknowledging the statement. “I’m not sure if he or his intel is going to be reliable.”

“Has he spoken to you?” Leia asks, and Luke turns toward Rey in interest.

She takes a slow breath. “Yes.”

“What about?”

“I…” Rey trails off as she thinks about what it is she wants to do. She’s tired of keeping this connection hidden, and the sooner Leia knows about all of it the better. “He offered to help me. With the bond.”

As soon as she says the word, it’s like a flare. Kylo Ren is suddenly there, a cold jolt that sends a shiver up her spine. Rey grips at the edge of the table, breathing in deep through her nose. She can’t feel his reaction, but she knows he’s seeing what she sees. Luke. His mother. There aren’t any words, but she senses his will for her to stop her from saying anything else—it’s desperate, almost like a plea. Rey clenches her jaw.

“Go away,” she snaps—not even realizing it was said out loud until Leia sends her an assessing stare from across the table.

“Ben?” Leia asks cautiously.

Again, there’s a wordless swelling of energy. Angry and afraid. Rey takes a deep breath through her nose and closes her eyes, following it back. She sees Kylo Ren’s space as clearly as he sees hers—he’s alone, sitting in what appears to be a training room. The walls have sizeable dents in them, and one has its paneling torn off.

“You told them,” he spits, voice modified by the helm on his head.

 _Of course I did,_ Rey replies. What she sees is somewhat distorted, fuzzy at the edges.

“They’ll use it.” Kylo stands, and Rey stands with him—a ghost in every one of his steps as he starts to pace the length of the training room. “Take whatever _this_ is and use it to their advantage. Is that what you want?”

_I want this to go away._

He stops, and she feels the strain as his fingers clench into his palm. He’s angry, she realizes with confusion. He’s upset that she wouldn’t want to…

_You-_

“It means nothing.” His voice is calm, but he can’t hide anything from her. She feels the strain of his arms, the grinding of his teeth. “Except a vulnerability that the Resistance will exploit.”

_It’s not like that._

“Then what is it like?” Kylo snorts. “You think those murderers and thieves will allow _us_ to maintain this link through the Force? To allow a compromised agent in their midst?”

 _I am_ not _compromised!_ She snaps. _And they are not murderers-_

“They’re not your friends, Rey.”

They are. They’re her family. Rey takes a moment to center her presence in his will, to stabilize herself in this conversation.

 _What is it that you want me to do, then?_ She asks more out of frustration than anything.

The question is meant to be rhetorical, but she feels him work out an answer in his mind. There’s a flicker of something—she doesn’t want to call it hope but it poisonously feels like the emotion. And she experiences his thoughts as he tries to articulate what it is that has been resting with him for far longer than either of them would like to admit.

He swallows. His fingers go slack in his fists. So much of him uncoils, and Rey wishes she could leave before the words leave his lips.

“Join the First Order, Rey.” Kylo Ren asks her softly. “Join _me_.”

And for a moment, she can view his thoughts clearly. It’s a memory, and she sees it as he saw it: Rey looks down at herself, the rain plastering her hair to the skin of her neck. It’s their last day on Jagomir. And he can’t help but already feel an ache, because she’s going to _go_ and this is something falling away-

 _No,_ she whispers back, withdrawing from his thoughts, his memory as though it burns her.

Everything falls silent. And Rey manages to use whatever will she has left in order to pull the partition between them.

When she returns to her own self, she’s once again at the table. Her hands sting, and she looks down to see small burn marks forming on the backs of her palms. She knows they’re caused by embers, emitted from a lightsaber. His presence is muted in her mind, but she hears the echoes of his frustration as he takes out his helplessness against the walls of the training room, sparks showering-

“Rey.”

She looks up. Leia is staring at her with a frown of concern.

“Was that-?”

Rey doesn’t trust herself to speak, so she only nods. She’s rattled—she hates that she’s rattled.

A hand slides over her forearm. Her head snaps up to meet Luke’s knowing stare.

“Why don’t you rest,” he offers quietly. “And we’ll talk about this later.”

“I’m alright,” she protests, hating the edge to her words.

“I know you are.” His voice is endlessly patient.

Rey bites down on her lip and one word echoes in her head:

_Compromised._

She understands then, that it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t want to join him. It doesn’t matter whether or not she wants this connection—it’s real and it’s _there_ and it won’t be going away. Her eyes drift up and meet Leia’s.

And it has the very real potential to hurt the people she loves.

“We’ll figure this out,” Luke promises her again.

Rey takes a slow breath, and nods before excusing herself from her chair.

\--

He’s already waiting outside of the door to her room.

Aalto’s leg rests against the wall, and in between two of his fingers is a smoking cigarro that makes her dislike him even more. His eyes follow her as she approaches, a calm smile on his lips that instantly sets her on edge.

“Bad day,” he states with a knowing nod.

“How do you know where my room is?”

“I’ll be here before,” he says easily, pulling a drag from his cigarro.

The statement picks at her already frayed nerves. “Go away.”

“In a minute.” He grinds the smoking end against the wall, _her_ wall, and it’s taking every part of her Jedi instruction to stop from whacking him across the face with the hilt of her lightsaber.

Aalto’s presence in the Force is still wounded, but the toxicity is gone from it. His hair has been recently washed, and there’s some color returning to his skin. His eyes are still dark, hooded and they don’t leave her face as he steps forward.

“Here we are again,” he says distantly.

“What do you want.”

“You won’t hit me. Not today.”

“Maybe I will just to be contrary.”

“To the Force?” He snorts, “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

“You don’t know me,” she reiterates.

“I want to.” He takes another step forward.

“Oy, knock it off.” She reaches for the hilt on her back.

Aalto raises his hands in supplication. “Whatever you need me to do, scavenger girl.”

He stops. She glares at him, but when he doesn’t make a move she withdraws her arm.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve reconsidered my offer.” Aalto lowers his arms, but still doesn’t step forward. “I’ll help you for free, Rey.”

“Bantha shit.”

“I mean it.” He smiles. “No strings—except that you have to come with when Luke asks. I can’t help you from the ocean.”

Rey’s mouth goes dry. He shouldn’t know of the ocean. No one knew, except her, Luke, and-

Aalto tilts his head. “I’ll start. Bonds only happen with understanding, Rey. But I bet you knew that. They usually happen between teacher and student, but they can be formed in life-threatening situations—and they are not broken. You can’t break them.”

Rey says nothing, merely glares as he continues.

“You break a bond when you both die.” He blinks, eyes darting down. “How are your hands, Rey?”

She shoves them into her pockets. “Leave me alone,” she whispers, exhausted.

He surprises her when he nods, stepping to the side and walking around her in a wide berth. Once again his hands raised. “Until you don’t want me to anymore.”

Aalto continues to face her, taking slow and even steps backwards down the hall. He gives her a quick salute before he pivots, turning down to the next hall and out of sight.

Rey sags against the door, and feels something crawl down her arms when she notices his cigarro burn is eye-level on the wall next to her.

\--

It takes her three hours of meditation before she feels centered enough to attempt sleep. Her dreams are quiet for once, undisturbed save for the nagging, constant pull that reminds her that there’s a part of her being siphoned somewhere else. The next morning, she’s awoken by a knock on the door. Immediately, she casts her senses for Aalto and is surprised to see that it’s Leia waiting for her.

With shuffling, sleep-clumsy steps Rey gets up from bed and presses her hand against the panel. It slides open, revealing Leia holding two mugs.

“Let’s take a walk.”

\--

The sun is just starting to rise on D’Qar, but that never matters on a Resistance base. Rey takes a delicate sip from her mug of hot cocoa, and a happy hum escapes her. Like Luke, Leia seems to always know what’s necessary. And as Rey watches the pilots, mechanics, and engineers get up and go about their morning routines, she feels the cemented knowledge that this is what she’s meant to be doing—that these are her people, and that she _belongs._

Leia sends her a knowing look as they walk at a leisurely pace. “I figured you could use a break from the Jedi shit by now.”

Rey’s eyes widen, but at Leia’s smirk she can’t help but give a slow smile.

“Go ahead and agree, it’s alright.” The General of the Resistance nudges her with an elbow.

“It’s…so much, sometimes,” Rey confesses. The sun breaks the skyline in happy oranges and pinks. Kylo Ren, wherever he is, is awake. On a ship somewhere, if she feels it right.

“You bear it well,” Leia compliments. It’s enough to almost make Rey trip over her own feet. “It’s not easy, being the last of something.”

“I never really considered myself to be anything, before.”

Leia slides an arm through hers. And Rey closes her eyes at the contact—warm and caring. She doesn’t understand how he could ever turn from this, from people who so clearly love him.

“Can you sense him now?” Leia asks quietly as they continue their walk.

“Yeah.”

“Is he…”

Rey closes her eyes. Her consciousness brushes against his—just for a moment. But there’s an ease to it now that unsettles her. Whatever it is between them, it’s growing. “He’s alright.”

“I should probably stop asking.” Leia looks up across the field, where some of her pilots are gearing up for diagnostics. “But if I stop asking, that means I stop other things.”

Rey follows her gaze, feeling open and vulnerable. She knows that whatever Leia asks, she’ll answer honestly. It’s both a damning and freeing sensation.

Leia finally sighs. And asks nothing, instead taking a drink from her mug.

“I’m sorry,” Rey supplies.

“For what?” Leia asks.

“…I don’t know.”

The general pats her arm with a hand that wears a ring with no gemstone. “Rey, I know you will do what you need to. We all do.” She turns her head to meet Rey’s gaze. And when the general speaks next, her voice is tainted by a distant quality that reminds her of Aalto’s. “This place is your home, Rey. Nothing you ever do will change that.”

“Thank you.” Rey feels her eyes brimming with tears.

Leia clears her throat, patting her arm one more time before gently withdrawing. “Luke and I had a talk.”

“What about?”

“Aalto.” Leia’s upper lip curls at the name, and it gives Rey a brief moment of satisfaction. “He’s been questioned by Resistance intelligence.”

“Anything you can use?”

“Maybe. A few leads to follow up on.” She rolls her shoulders. “But my brother’s decided that Aalto needs to finish healing from his wound in the Force before he continues, whatever that means.”

“You mean-?”

“Luke’s taking Aalto off planet. He said it was your choice to join him, or to stay here on D’Qar.” Leia’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Don’t worry, I’m more than capable of finding things for you to do.”

Aalto’s words ring in her ears. _I can’t help you from the ocean._

Staying here means leaving Aalto with Luke. She knows her master is capable of handling the former Knight of Ren, but something remains unsettled. A bad feeling.

“Luke still needs me,” Rey decides. The words feel heavy on her tongue.

“I agree.” Leia’s lips twitch up in a smile that feels more sorrowful than not. “And I trust Aalto as much as a pazaak dealer.”

Rey feels the sting that always comes with leaving. “Hopefully we’ll be back soon.”

“You will.” Leia crosses her arms across her chest, the pose not negated by a cocoa mug hanging off of three of her fingers. “And Rey…”

“Yes?”

“This time, if it comes down to it…” Leia closes her eyes, and Rey feels her loss in the air between them. “I want you to save yourself.”

Rey can only nod, trying not to skim further past the surface of the request.


	9. Apparation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took a little longer! Schooooool-- thanks for reading :D

_\--_  
Before.  
\--

_Rey is used to staying put. If she got caught out during X’us’R’iia, she’d sometimes have to stay put for days in the cramped confines of a downed ship. One particularly bad time she fell from the telemetry dish of a freighter, colliding with the ground and breaking her leg. She’d crawled under the freighter and pulled herself up through a cargo hatch. The sandstorm lasted three days, with only two portions of polystarch, three canteens of water, and no painkillers._

_She’s still trying to decide if this is worse._

_It’s been raining heavily for the last few days, heavier than Rey ever thought possible. The sound of water hitting the roof of the shuttle makes rapid, tinny noises that make her think of firefights. She’s gone out a few times for necessities, but the fact of the matter is that any external work she might be able to do on the shuttle is going to have to wait._

_So she waits._

_Rey doesn’t open her eyes, her fists pressed together in front of her chest. Her body is sitting roughly a foot off of the ground as she begins to enter her meditation, legs folded and back straight._

_He’s staring again._

_Rey feels it acutely on her back. They haven’t talked much beyond the basics after he’d healed her—the two of them reaching a silent consensus to not speak of it. But he’s been watching her, and she doesn’t know why. Rey’s not a threat to him right now, something she thought they both understood._

_But he keeps staring. Saying nothing._

_Rey tries her best to shut him out, attempting to even out her breathing the way Luke’s taught her. Her inhales go in and are released in steady counts, but there’s this strange_ pull _to where she senses his presence in the shuttle._

_“What,” she finally snaps._

_He’s silent. The stare is becoming a tangible thing, like fingers sliding up her neck._

_With irritation, she lowers her body slowly to the ground and unfolds her legs. She turns, still seated, to meet his stare._

_His lips are pressed tight, as are the fingers he has resting on his knees. Rey narrows her gaze at him, brushing her loose hair back into a single knot. The rain continues to echo throughout the shuttle in peppering noises as she frowns._

_“Is something wrong?”_

_Kylo’s dark eyes are burning with something angry. He hunches over further, until they are nearly eye level despite being across the shuttle._

_“Did I break your Jedi concentration?”_

_“Is there something you’d rather have me concentrate on?”_

_Something flickers across his face too quickly for her to get a read on it. “Nothing has changed between us.”_

_She almost snorts, but seeing the barely composed expression on his face has her deciding to roll her shoulders instead. “I know that.”_

_“Do you?”_

_“Is that not what I just said?”_

_“We’re enemies.” His lips are nearly white, his syllables strained._

_“We are.”_

_“Saving your life doesn’t change that.”_

_Her brows raise. “I saved yours first, you realize.”_

_“I want you to be sure that any…comradery you might feel is temporary.”_

_“That’s fine. I don’t feel any.”_

_His fingers clench tighter on his knees. Rey folds her arms around her knees. They watch each other. After a moment, Rey’s eyes start to follow the scar across his face, from temple to jawline. That moment of victory feels so long ago. She wonders, absently and without any particular seriousness, what it would have been like if she had pressed forward when the whispers had beckoned to her—what would have happened if she had struck him down once and for all._

_Kylo Ren shifts, and his next question is quiet. “Are you afraid of me?”_

_Rey gives a slow shake of her head._

_He swallows in a slow motion. “Why not?”_

_She doesn’t entirely know. And the words are out before she can think about them. “I guess I know I could kill you, if I had to.”_

_Kylo Ren suddenly feels very close, and there’s a strange, new intimacy in the way that they watch one another now. There isn’t a word for it, but for a brief moment she feels a sort of connection. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly pulls off his gloves with methodical movements and they make a dull noise when he puts them on the bench. Then, without looking away, he removes his arm wrappings and the remaining cloth around his neck._

_Rey doesn’t move._

_His arms are laced with scars, a spectrum of color ranging from pale pink to deep purple. Some are raised, some are barely there. They are ribbons that cut across his skin. His neck has a wider burn mark, as though someone had held a lightsaber against it at some point._

_“You think this,” he presses his fingers against his face as he looks down, “Is going to be enough to threaten me?”_

_She sighs, tilting her head. Her hands stay locked around her knees. “I’m not interested in comparing scars.”_

_His head snaps up. “Then what are you interested in?”_

_The rain echoes in the empty shuttle. Rey bites down on her lip as she thinks about it. She must take too long, because Kylo decides to break the silence before she can answer._

_“I will still teach you.”_

_“What?” She asks in shock, contemplation forgotten at the offer._

_He stands, and moves until he sits directly in front of her. He lifts his bare hand up, and Rey recoils at the gesture. Kylo frowns, but instead of pressing his fingers to her cheek—as she suspects he intended—he instead makes a fist._

_“There’s so much…” He whispers, fingers flexing as if they could catch whatever is in the air between them. “And the Light is only half of it. You know that.”_

_“It’s the half that I like,” she says bluntly. “And it’s the half I already have a teacher for.”_

_His eyes narrow. “Luke.”_

_“That’s right. And I won’t trade him for anything.” She juts out her chin. “Ever.”_

_“You’ll change your mind.”_

_“No, I won’t.”_

_His jaw clenches. Rey frowns up at him. There’s a tug in the Force, and it’s enough to let her know that he is thinking about entering her mind._

_“Try it,” she spits, “And see what happens.”_

_The tug, his impulse, fades. Kylo lets his hand drop. “This conversation isn’t over.”_

_“It is for me.”_

_He leans forward, close enough for her to see the puckered edgings from the burn on his neck, and for her eyes to come directly in line with his chin. He looks down at her, but she doesn’t look up._

_“There’s still a lot you don’t know, scavenger. Don’t forget that.”_

_Her hazel eyes dart up to meet his. Her words are cool. “Then I’ll find it out myself.”_

_He hesitates for a moment, their eyes locked, before his expression tightens and he storms off to the opposite side of the shuttle._

_Rey takes a breath, closes her eyes, and resumes meditation—still feeling his stare on her._

 

 **\--**  
**Now**.

\--

 

It’s getting worse. Rey lays on her side in bed, willing her body to fall asleep and get some rest. It doesn’t. Instead, she stares at her hand curled on the empty pillow next to her head. Rey tries to resist the energetic and electric feeling coursing through her. They’re across the galaxy, but she feels everything he does echo in her.

Right now, she knows, he’s being fired at. Because it’s his adrenaline that keeps her awake, has her heart thumping in her chest.

She closes her eyes.  
_There’s a flash of bright red light, streaking out across the trees-_

She opens her eyes.  
Her room is empty and still.

Closes her eyes.  
_His hand raises, holds the blaster fire in the palm of it-_

Opens her eyes.  
On the pillow, her hand has a red welt blossoming in it.

She stares at it for a long time, doing her best to keep her eyes open so she doesn’t _see._ Rey doesn’t want to watch as he fights, as he kills someone who might be her ally. She doesn’t want to look through his eyes and see him firing on her friends.

Her next breath comes short.  
Finn and Poe are out on a mission-

There’s a knock on her door.  
Rey pushes herself up and out of the bed, so desperate for a diversion that she doesn’t even think to cast her senses out before she hits the console panel beside her.

Her door slides open.  
Aalto Ren leans against its frame on the other side.

“Let me help.” He is fully dressed, despite the early hour. Wearing a Resistance uniform.

Rey doesn’t move.

Aalto’s pale eyes stare forward, distant. “It’s not your friends. Not on this path.”

She exhales. Closes her eyes.  
_He swings down his lightsaber-_  
Opens her eyes.  
  
“How did you-“

Aalto smirks. “I told you, I’ve been here before.”

He takes a cautious step into her room. Rey watches him, but when she doesn’t attack or yell, he grows less hesitant. He takes a few steps in, until he sits cross-legged on the floor. He gestures, and Rey mutely follows, sitting across from him.

“It’s our last night here,” he starts. “And you need your rest, Rey. We will be traveling for a long time.”

“He’s-“

“Killing,” Aalto finishes. “That’s what he does. That’s what you see.”

“Who is it?” she whispers. “Who is he attacking?”

“Does it matter?” He asks, genuinely curious.

Rey closes her eyes-  
- _“PLEASE-!”  
_ -shakes her head.

“Let me help,” Aalto echoes, outstretching a hand toward Rey.

“I told you to stay away from me,” she says instead, not taking it.

“Until you wanted me not to,” he finishes. With a strange, mad sort of grin he taps a finger against his temple. “You don’t want me to anymore. I can feel it. Just like I can feel your bond—it’s stronger. It’s only going to keep getting stronger. There’s nothing you can do.”

Her fingers dig into the thin fabric of her sleeping pants. Her mind and chest war with one another, until she finally concedes something. “I can’t sleep.”

Aalto nods. “I know.”

She closes her eyes.  
_There’s an electric hiss, then the body slumps over…_

“Let me help,” Aalto whispers.

“Why?” She asks, “Why would you want to help me?”

His hooded stare glances up to meet hers. “Because you are going to be important to me, Rey.”

“How.”

Aalto smiles. Instead of answering, he rests the backs of his hands on each knee, palm-up. “Follow me.”

“What are you going to do.”

“A meditation technique. Nothing else.”

“Is this-?”

“No. It’s not Dark Side. Or Light. It just _is._ ”

She doesn’t trust him-

“I know.” He doesn’t move. “And you won’t. Not for a while, but this is a step.”

Rey feels her nerves twist. But she doesn’t know what else to do, doesn’t know anyone else who can show her a way to make it quiet. “I’ll knock you out if you try anything.”

“Yes.”

She doesn’t know what that’s an answer to, but with hesitant movements she rests her hands on her knees, palm-up. “How do you know about…this?”

“Bonds.” Aalto is sweaty once more around his brow, but the rest of him seems calmer. More centered. Even the toxic aura that hangs about him seems muted, tonight. “We cared a great deal about history, us Knights of Ren.” His pale eyes, she notices, have a ring of dark grey around them. “And I was…” He twitches, almost like a spasm. Briefly, Rey senses a sharp pain fill him. “A historian. Close your eyes, Rey.”

She casts him a final, warning glance, but follows his instructions.

_There are bodies all over the ground. He steps over them with little regard, eyes scanning the forest line. She doesn’t recognize the uniforms, but pity and anger fill her at the sight of so many glassy stares-_

“Don’t open your eyes. Follow it.”

Rey takes a shaky breath.  
  
_-he charges forward, a Stormtrooper wearing strange, chrome armor and a red shoulder cape matching his pace._

_“Sir,” she says in a short, Coruscanti accent. “We’ve found several shipping manifests. The codes match the ones from Intelligence.”_

_He’s nearly brimming with anticipation. Rey feels his desire as he does, the strange, stilted happiness at finally having a lead. “Where.”_

_“D’Qar-“_

Rey’s heart nearly stops.  “We have to tell Leia-“

“Not now. Follow.”

_Kylo Ren’s masked face looks up. “Later.”_

_“Sir?”_

_“_ Later. _” He strides away, until he is past the battlefield and the Stormtroopers. Until he is deep in the forest, foliage masking his presence from everyone. His anger is a potent and tangible thing, barely contained in the short, clipped syllables he speaks out loud to no one._

_“So now they’ve made you into a spy.”_

_Rey knows it’s addressed to her. She doesn’t speak. She just follows._

_Kylo takes a rattled breath and in an instant he’s swinging his lightsaber against the trees. Again and again and again, until Rey feels her hands burn from the sparks._

_“Go ahead and warn your traitorous allies, then.” He says breathlessly once he’s done outpouring his frustration at the leak. “It won’t make a difference—do you understand, Rey? It doesn’t matter if your pathetic Resistance is on D’Qar, or Hoth, or Hapes-“_

_He heaves in a breath._

_“All you have is half the lesson.” His distorted voice echoes in the otherwise silent forest. “I’m the only one with the rest. And you’ll need it, sooner or later.”_

_A few moments pass._

_“Say something,” he snarls._

_She doesn’t._

_“Say something!”_

_Rey wants to open her eyes-_

“Not yet,” comes Aalto’s voice, a whisper in her ear.

_Kylo looks straight ahead, and it’s as though he’s watching her. Maybe he is._

_“Who’s with you?” He demands._

_Rey doesn’t know if she should answer. She’s mindful of her body, still in a relaxed meditation pose._

_“This isn’t Luke’s presence.” Kylo Ren’s fingers tighten around the hilt of his still ignited lightsaber. “Who is here with us, Rey?”_

_He’s offended, she realizes. Upset that she’s allowed someone else see the connection they have to each other. The vulnerability._

_He’s…worried. Jealous. Rey almost breaks the connection then and there, but Aalto’s silent presence keeps her rooted._

_“Fine,” Kylo snarls, starting to pace. The end of his lightsaber burns a trail through the ground._

“Now,” Aalto instructs. “Leave.”

_He must feel her retreat, because he stops._

_“_ Fine, _” he hisses again. “Run. For now. But we’re not finished here.”_

_His image starts to fade, but his words follow her._

_“I won’t let them make you their tool.”_

She opens her eyes, her body feeling heavy and syrupy. Rey glances across to Aalto, who still sits in his meditative pose.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs.

She does.  
There’s nothing. No images. No sounds. The only presence Rey feels in her mind is her own.

“What did you do?” She asks.

He gives a tired smile. She sees that the toxic aura has returned in full force, his chest and forehead wet with sweat once more. “The bond is a product of the Force. Follow its meaning, see what it wants you to see, and it’ll be silent.”

On shaky legs, she pushes herself into a stand. “I’m going to warn Leia.”

Aalto nods.

She sends him a wary look over her shoulder, before going for the door.

Aalto is silent as she leaves. He only stares straight ahead, looking at nothing.

\--

A few hours later finds an exhausted Rey going through the prep controls of _The Millennium Falcon_ in an efficient silence next to Luke. The engines whir, and she hears the hyperdrive prime. Looking down, she sees the evacuation of the base starting to end, with only one figure left standing on the hanger bay.

Leia Organa lifts her hand in a slow wave.

Rey presses her hand against the window and tries to smile, before turning back to Luke.

“Where are we going?” She asks.

Luke seems to listen to something she can’t hear. “The Outer Rim. To start.” He sends her a hesitant look. “This is going to be a long journey.”

She hears the opening he’s giving her—one last chance to stay behind with Leia. But Rey thinks about the vision, and it doesn’t take her long to conclude that separation is one of the easiest ways to keep the general safer.

“I’m ready.”

Luke smiles, and she feels his gratitude through their own connection—it’s not as powerful or omnipresent as hers and Kylo’s. It’s soothing, a regular bond between student and master.

“Go ahead and punch it,” he says softly.

Rey pushes forward on the hyperdrive, and the Resistance base flickers out behind them.

\--

They switch over the controls to autopilot, and Luke lets out a sigh.

“That was a close call,” he starts.

Rey nods. “I…used it.” She doesn’t know why the thought makes her stomach turn, but it does. “Aalto showed me, and I saw…”

“Kylo Ren.”

“Yes.”

Luke rubs a finger over his chin. “What did Aalto show you.”

“A meditation pose.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah,” she bites down on her lip, “It was. It was so _loud_ and he-“

“Made it less loud.”

She nods.

Luke sends her a wary look. “No one’s beyond redemption, Rey. Not even Aalto.”

“But?”

“But keep an eye on our passenger,” he says flatly. “Compassion and trust don’t always go hand in hand.”

“He said he was a historian.”

“He was.” Luke frowns as he tries to chase his own memories. “Like I said, Aalto was never strong in the Force like the traditional adept. He was a seer, but beyond that his skills were limited. I…I was the one who recommended he spend his time going through the old Jedi artifacts on Yavin.”

She recognizes the name of the jungle planet, where Luke had first made his Jedi praxeum. Where the Knights of Ren had… “Is that where we’re going?”

He shakes his head. “No, not yet.”

Luke looks out the viewport where, for now, there is nothing but stars and the black inky distance of space. A chill works its way down Rey’s spine as she remembers being ripped out of her fighter, the sensation of drifting through nothing-

Luke rests his hand on hers, giving her a reassuring squeeze before withdrawing. “I’ve been pulled here.”

He taps his finger. Rey reads the astronav chart underneath it.

“Dantooine?” She says, not familiar with the planet. Then again, she’s not familiar with most of them.

“It’s about a standard day away from here. And a place strong in the Force, though now it’s mostly populated by farmers. The archives on Yavin spoke of an old Jedi Enclave there.” He shoots her a glance. “Rumors are that it’s hard to trace a Force presence there.”

“Mine-?”

“And Aalto’s.” Luke grins. “And mine, too. We're popular.”

Rey tries to match it, and fails. “I don’t know if that will stop the bond. So far...only Aalto’s been able to silence it.”

“That worries you.”

“Yes.”

Luke closes his eyes. Draws a breath. “On Dantooine, we’ll train together. The three of us. Whatever Aalto teaches you, he can share.”

Her eyes widen. “You actually think he should-“

“I think,” Luke whispers, “We don’t have many options to protect you, Rey.”

She looks down at her hands.

“You can also help me guide Aalto back to the Light.”

She shoots him a glance.

“As a Jedi Knight.”

“You mean…”

Luke’s shoulders lower. “I wish it were under different circumstances, but I’ve been wanting to have this talk with you for a while now. I think it’s time you considered taking on a padawan.”

“And you think it should be _Aalto._ ”

“Compassion and trust don’t always go hand and hand,” he repeats, though it sounds more like a reminder to himself. He sends her a thoughtful look. “For better or for worse, Aalto responds to you. And you wouldn’t be alone, we’d train him together. As partners.”

He looks at her, and his voice takes on an edge of seriousness. “Training someone is a heavy burden, Rey. Don’t feel obligated unless you’re ready.”

She frowns, not sure what to say. Not sure what to do with the former Knight of Ren who knows far more than what he ought to.

“Get some rest,” Luke suggests, “And we’ll talk about it again once you wake up.”

Exhausted, Rey manages a nod and leaves without much grace back to her quarters on _The Falcon._

She sleeps.  
And wakes up somewhere else.  
  
\--

Rey jerks awake, pulling into a sitting position and bringing the back of a hand to her forehead in an attempt to stop the spilling. She looks around, seeing metal walls, grated floors, and her stomach turns. It’s that kriffing shuttle again. And she’s on the karking bench.

Kylo Ren sits next to her on it, masked head tilted to show he’s looking at her.

“You’ll be happy to hear,” he says in a tone so detached she knows he’s furious, “That the Resistance base was empty when we found it.”

She pauses, dread filling her as her senses come together. She’s sitting. _Sitting._ In the shuttle. She isn’t seeing him through the Force, or experiencing his life through a vision. It’s as if she’s been directly transported. Rey pivots in her seat, facing Kylo’s profile. Hesitantly, she lifts her hand-

He lifts his to meet it. Kylo Ren’s gloved fingers pass through her skin, as though she were no more than an apparition. There’s a flicker of frustration on his end, and he drops his arm.

“You’re asleep,” he concludes.

She gives a hesitant nod.

Kylo hunches over, glaring at a distant wall. “Something’s blocked you from me when you’re awake.”

“Maybe we aren’t as close as you thought.”

His helmeted head turns to her, somehow managing to be scathing.

Rey inhales. Truth be told, it’s terrifying to be here. To _be_ here, as if she decided to skip over for a visit. This defies anything she thought possible, and the fact that it’s with _him-_

“Don’t fear me.”

“I just barely escaped you.”

“Yes. Because you decided to spy.” His fingers tighten into fists. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“You’re conveniently ignoring that you were on your way to kill me.”

“ _No._ ”

“Then what?” She brings a knee underneath her chin, keeping her hands locked around it so he doesn’t see that they’re shaking. This meeting, this _bond,_ isn’t natural or right. “I hide, you chase? Until we’re both dead?”

He’s silent. She closes her eyes, trying to will her presence away-

“Stop. _Running._ ”

“Stop making me run.”

“Who was with you in the vision,” he redirects, voice soft and full of threat. “Luke? _Aalto_?”

“I’m not going to tell you.” Her mind drifts before she can stop it, thoughts of Aalto and meditation and Luke’s offer hanging in the air-

Kylo shifts, until he’s looming over her spectre. It’s ridiculous, and she glares up at him.

“ _You’re_ training _him_?!”

“Yes,” she decides then, “I’m going to train him.”

His voice is dripping with barely held in fury, deadpan and angry. “He tries to block our bond and you want to be his teacher.”

“I want it stopped.” Her eyes narrow. “You did too.” She lifts up her arm, the one that has his matching burn scar, to remind him.

“You allow yourself to be manipulated at every turn,” he spits. “By the Resistance, by Luke, and now by a failed Knight of Ren. You are _more than that._ ”

“I’m a Jedi,” she says flatly. “You aren’t going to change that by insulting me.”

They sit in an angry impasse. Rey brings up her other knee and Kylo keeps his gaze trained on the opposite wall. She tries, fruitlessly, to sever the visit. To return back to her quarters on the ship—

“Tell me where you’re going.”

She glares ahead, staying silent.

“Rey.”

“Don’t look for me.” She turns, only to see that he’s already facing her. “Because I will do whatever it takes to protect those I care about.”

“Including killing me.” He finishes.

“If I have to.”

“Even though it means your death with the bond.”

“Yes.”

“Foolish.”

She lifts her hand, and he automatically leans toward it when she hovers it by the side of his face. Her fingers are near-transparent, nothing more substantial than a holorecording, but for a moment this contact feels very real—the cold metal under her skin, the curve of it against her palm. It feels very real, and more painfully, it feels very _possible._

But it’s not. There’s no more substance to the possibility than her presence on this shuttle.

“There’s a place for you with the Jedi.” She drops her hand, feels a _pull_ from somewhere else beckoning her. “There isn’t one for me here.”

He must realize that she’s about to leave, because she feels him try and anchor her there through the bond. Rey cuts through it with a push of her will, and when she blinks, the next thing she sees is the inside of her own quarters once more.

\--

Three hours later, they land on Dantooine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -[X'us'R'iia](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/X%27us%27R%27iia)
> 
> -Aalto is starting to train Rey in [Mind Walking](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mind_Walking), more on this later :o)
> 
> -[Yavin IV](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Yavin_4/Legends), where Luke has his first Jedi school
> 
> -[Dantooine](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Dantooine)


	10. Abandoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the update delay. plus side? much longer chapter! content warning for shooting + aalto being a creep

_\--_  
Before.  
\--

_She should tell him. But for right now, she just wants to hate that he meditates._

_It’s a normal pose—folded legs, backs of the hands resting on his knees, eyes drifted shut. It looks ordinary. It…makes him look ordinary. Pale, mole-dotted face. Dark hair. Those black robes discarded for sleepwear--a simple, sleeveless tunic and draw pants. Big hands and bad posture. He could be anyone. He could just be another scavenger from Jakku, the two of them running a job together._

_Kylo Ren’s eyes open, and the hypotheticals are gone. Rey decides to preoccupy herself with stripping a coupling—her gloved hands run a spanner, removing casing and exposing the wiring underneath._

_She expects an outburst from him, having abruptly left his meditation. Instead, there’s only a quiet and curious question as he must sense her hesitation to get his attention. “What are you doing?”_

_She frowns. “Fixing.”_

_“How much longer?”_

_The impatience in his voice is a little more the status quo, and it helps her chase the rest of her hypothetical situation entirely from her mind. Rey bites down on the finger of her glove, using her teeth to pry it off and have it fall to the ground._

_“I’m done.”_

_He stands, once again attempting to_ loom. _“Done?”_

_Rey feels anticipation roll from him, coupled with…worry. She doesn’t know if her Force perception is getting stronger, or if he’s just broadcasting more, but Kylo Ren’s emotions are a lot simpler to read than most’s._

_“As far as I can,” she finishes._

_Rey stares at the wires in front of her. The nearly prepared ship. Her ungloved hand slowly pulls off the other one, and she flexes her fingers as she stares at the innards of the shuttle. She’s done as much as she can, it’s true. But the telemetry systems…_

_“Something’s wrong.” Kylo comes to stand behind her, bending over her and gesturing to the control panel she already knows he doesn’t know how to read. “What is it.”_

_His arm is practically caging her in. Rey bats it away with the back of her hand. He startles the moment their skin makes contact, straightening so he’s no longer boxing her in._

_“Telemetry.”_

_“What about it.”_

_“It’s shot.”_

_“…Shot.”_

_“Yeah.” Rey leans back, so her weight rests on her heels, and runs a hand through her hair. Some of it sticks up with the motion. She narrows her eyes at the systems, as if they would give her an answer to the impossible question. She keeps her hand in her hair as she glares at it._

_“Explain.”_

_“We could fly,” she starts._

_“How far?”_

_Rey shakes her head._

_Kylo nearly radiates behind her, and he takes a step so he can kneel by her side. “Then_ fix _it, scavenger.”_

_“I’m not sure how this one gets fixed.”_

_“So we’re trapped here.” Anger gives an edge to his tone._

_She mentally sighs. Runs through the diagnostics again. She brings the hand in her hair to cover her mouth._

_“I guess we are.”_

_He glares at her, as though it were an accusation._

_“I don’t want to stay here any longer than you do,” she reminds him._

_Kylo’s hand flexes, as his brown eyes go from her to the wiring. Frustration is building in him—a snowball effect. And also…guilt?_

_Rey closes her eyes, and a memory hits her:_ small hands, wrapped around a holopad. An older man with brown hair and a lopsided grin pointing at a paneling not unlike this one.

 _“_ It’s like I said, this one powers up the compressor—hey, kid? You listening, or-?”

“Yeah,” the smaller voice lies, scrolling to another page in the story he’s reading.

_Rey’s eyes snap open. Kylo’s face leans near hers._

_“What did you see?” He hisses, caught somewhere between wonder and rage._

_Rey gives a slow shake of her head. “I-“_

_Kylo frowns. And, for a moment, looks too much like his father._

_“It was an accident.” Rey doesn’t explain beyond that. She only stands, and walks quickly out the shuttle before Kylo can think to chase after her._

_\--  
_

_She wishes he was just someone on Jakku.  
_

_\--_

_She walks until the sun fades on the horizon line, past where they went hunting for cannoks. Past the furthest point she’s gone. Her head is spinning, frustrated and troubled as she tries to come to terms with the reality that’s starting to loom over her._

_They might be stuck here for a long time._

_Rey’s fingers curl into her palms as she trudges onward. The fetid swamp air cools, her clothes and hair sticking to her skin as her muscles begin to pull in protest._

_She’s going to be stuck here with Kylo Ren._

_And she saw one of his memories today. One of him as a boy—a moment she couldn’t possibly have known about otherwise._

_In a well-rehearsed motion, she withdraws her lightsaber from the sheath on her back. The familiar weight in her palm is comforting, and she looks at the scarred metal of its hilt. At its piecemeal construction._

_Someone is going to come back to look for her. She has to believe that._

_\--_

_It’s officially too dark to think about heading back to the shuttle, and Rey’s not sure if she wants to go back at all. If she’s going to be stranded on a planet, maybe it’d be best to get to the side furthest from Kylo Ren. Let him keep the ruined shuttle and the X-wing he cleaved._

_She stops once she gets to solid enough ground, away from the worst of the insects and bogs, and does what she does best. Rey scavenges the woods of the area, cutting down pieces of logs and fashioning them into a makeshift lean-to. The nights are warm enough where she’ll be comfortable without insulation, but keeping any potential rain out needs to be a priority. She forages for mushrooms and plants that look edible enough, and makes her camp._

_It’s not much, but it’ll be good enough for tonight. Good enough to give her some space._

_Rey chews down on the thick skin of the mushroom, chomping as she links her fingers around her knees and looks up at the sky._

Finn, _she tries first. When there’s no answer, she tries again._

Luke.

 _Nothing._ Leia?

_No one hears her. It becomes abundantly clear that tonight it’s just Rey, her enemy, and the thousands of lights in the sky between them on this desolate planet._

_For the first time since leaving Jakku, Rey feels horribly alone._

_\--_

_She’s still half-asleep the next morning when someone’s hand gently shakes her shoulder. The hand is large, heavy. Likely a man’s._

_She snaps up and throws a punch. Her knuckles connect with the bottom part of a face, digging into a chin before it’s_ snapped _another direction._

 _“Kriff!” Comes a voice she knows too well—with such_ normal _frustration she’s momentarily even more disorientated._

_Rey blinks awake, shaking out her fist. Above her, Kylo Ren is discretely attempting to spit out blood._

_He gives her a Look as he rubs his chin. “…Scavenger.”_

_Guilt flashes through her, then anger. Then she’s angry at her guilt. “That’s what you get for sneaking up on someone,” she states primly._

_“Like they did on Jakku.”_

_Rey frowns, not sure what to make of the statement. She doesn’t want Kylo Ren near her memories_ ever _again—even in talking. “…Yeah, like they did on Jakku.”_

_He hunches over, attempting for eye-level even though he’s still a good half a head taller when she’s sitting. “I saw it.”_

_She runs her palm over the fist that just decked the Master of the Knights of Ren. “Saw what?”_

_“Jakku.”_

_Perhaps she hit him harder than she expected. “I know.” Her tone sharpens. “BB-8 told me what you did to that village.”_

_“The droid.”_

_“My friend!”_

_Kylo is_ staring _again, brown eyes heavy on her. A nice red spot on his chin. He seems to be warring with himself over something. “That’s not what I meant.”_

_“What’s not what you meant?”_

_He sighs, giving up. Instead, his eyes trail over her tied up logs, his puckered brow raising._

_“It’s temporary.” She doesn’t know why she feels the need to defend it._

_“Were you planning on running?”_

_It’s a carefully neutral question. Rey narrows her eyes, watching him closely. His face is almost a mask, but for the small, downward tug at one of the corners of his mouth._

_“At some point, yes.” She shifts, straightening her posture. Her undone hair falls over one of her shoulders with the motion and Kylo’s eyes follow it._

_He rests his elbows on his knees, fingers dragging along the slightly damp soil beneath them. “We’re better as a team.”_

_“What.”_

_The tug at the corner of his mouth morphs into a full scowl. “On this planet. We’re better as a team.” He looks up at her. “I know you understand that.”_

_“Do I.” She keeps her voice as calm as she can. “The first thing you did upon regaining consciousness was point a lightsaber at me.”_

_“You shot down my shuttle.”_

_“Because you were firing on me first.”_

_“We weren’t shooting to kill. And I healed your leg.” From the grimace on his face, it’s clear that he never wanted to admit to that._

_“Which is an ability that comes from the Light,” Rey whispers carefully._

_Kylo glares at her. She just waits._

_“So you’d rather become a hermit in a swamp, is that it.”_

_“Maybe.”_

_He leans forward. “You need me.”_

_She leans forward to meet him. “I’ve never_ needed _anyone in my entire life.”_

_“You would’ve been killed by a cannok.”_

_“And you would’ve been dead in a swamp!” Annoyed beyond belief, Rey stands. She holsters her lightsaber, and starts walking—pulling her hair into its usual knots as she goes. “Don’t pretend you know who I am, Kylo Ren. Or what I’m able to do. You don’t know_ _Jakku. And you definitely don’t know me.”_

_He pivots, nostrils slightly flaring and shoulders hunched. “Where are you going?”_

_“To get food!” She shouts, trudging forward._

_She rolls her eyes when she hears his lumbering footsteps following after her._

_\--_

_They’re walking an hour in silence when his lumbering footsteps make a clanging noise._

_Rey cranes her neck to look over her shoulder, her hands full of some more of those mushroom things. “What’s that?”_

_Kylo Ren bends down, fingers wrapping around whatever it was he’s just kicked. Disgust crosses his features, and when Rey sees what’s in his hands she doesn’t stop the wide, toothy smile that forms on her face._

_He tilts his hands, and the piece of metal paneling catches the sun, highlighting the Rebel insignia._

_Without waiting for an invitation, she turns around and grabs it from his hands, lifting it high above her head. Rey laughs, and doesn’t restrain herself as she actually jumps up and down for a moment._

_“This is it!” She flips the metal over, seeing the serial number. “This is a piece from an A-Wing!”_

_Still smiling, she turns to Kylo, holding up the metal once again. “This might get us home!”_

_He’s silent for a long time, and if she wasn’t so distracted by her own elation, she would have seen the softening of his expression that wormed its way onto his face as she continues to nearly_ giggle _over a foot-long hunk of scrap._

 _But it’s there and gone too quickly for her to notice. And instead, she thinks again about how_ home _for them is two completely different things._

_Enthusiasm fading, she clears her throat._

_“Let’s go,” she says, swerving around and searching the foliage with a stronger sense of purpose._

_\--_

_They find the wreckage of the A-Wing three hours later.  
It’s sitting in front of an abandoned Rebellion base._

 

\--  
**Now  
\--**

 

The sound of Dantooine is a pulse in her head. Whispers travel along the tall grass of the farming planet, the plains feeling like a sea of ghosts. Lonely. Endless.

It’s a lot like Ahch-To.

Luke must feel it too, because he’s quiet as he walks in front of her, hands folded into the sleeves of his robe. Aalto keeps an easier pace in between them, pale eyes darting around as if he’s trying to identify things he’s seen before.

They’ve landed on what used to be a Rebellion base.

It’s impossible not to think about the _other_ base as she follows Luke across the landing, taking in the sophisticated comm towers and hangers—clearly better designed for longevity than the base they discovered on Jagomir.

They.

Rey sighs. Her hand runs over the hilt of her lightsaber as they approach the desolate building. Luke doesn’t keep a literal eye on Aalto, but she can feel him monitoring the former Knight of Ren through the Force. The toxicity around him is a flicker now—sometimes strong, sometimes dim. It’s enough to keep her a few steps back, not wanting to get drawn into Aalto’s emanating wound.

They reach a barricaded door. Luke presses his mechanical hand to the outdated console and punches in a security code. There’s a loud, grinding noise, before it slides apart—revealing pristine, metallic halls and a corridor with many doors.

“We’ll stay in the base for tonight, and keep the _Falcon_ parked here,” Luke explains to Rey.

She looks at Aalto’s profile. His slightly hollow cheeks and hawk-like nose. He smiles, even though he doesn’t turn to look back at her.

She swallows. “What about tomorrow?”

“We’ll go to Matale. Get a permit to visit the old Enclave.”

Rey can’t help but blink. “A…permit?”

Luke turns to face her. “It’s a protected historical site now.”

She tilts her head. “Who would care to make it a historical site after the Empire?”

Her Master gives her a smile that is entirely full of pain. “…Me.”

He walks ahead, leaving just her and Aalto standing at the entrance. Rey waits for him to go first, not trusting him at her back.

“Nothing’s going to be saved here.” Aalto kicks a stone near his feet, and watches as it rolls to the side of the paved landing, back onto the dirt. “No one can hold onto ghosts forever. And Dantooine is full of them.”

Rey glares. “Shut up.”

Aalto’s smile widens with a new realization. “You know.”

“Know what.”

“That we’re about to walk down the path together. Your decision’s already made, isn’t it Jedi girl?”

She rests a hand on her hip. “You were eavesdropping.”

“In a way.” Aalto takes a step into the compound. Rey follows slowly after him.

“But that implies you’d want to be trained as a Jedi again,” she says carefully, “That you were serious about coming back to the Resistance.”

He puts his hands in his pockets, striding forward.  “Isn’t that what you want? Proof that all things can work out? That sometimes those who leave you can _come back._ ” He halts at the exact moment that Rey steps, and she almost collides into him. Aalto pivots, so they are face to face. His hands brace her by holding her biceps. “That’s what’s going to be the end of _you,_ scavenger girl.”

With a quick shrug of the shoulders, she shakes his hands off her skin. “Is that a threat.”

His expression goes absolutely _soft,_ and it almost makes her recoil. “No, no.” He outstretches two fingers and lets them hover just below the dip in her collar bone, right above her heart. “You are the one person I will never hurt, Rey.”

“Why.”

His fingers curl back into his palm.

She scowls. “You held a blaster to my head not even a week ago.”

“That was before I saw.”

Rey tenses. She doesn’t know what to say to that. Instead, she only shakes her head. “That’s annoying, you realize.”

“Annoying?”

“Yes.” She steps back from him.

“I turned it off for you,” he whispers. “Was he angry.”

Rey looks away. “Yes.”

“Were you?”

She closes her eyes. “…no.”

“That’s because you know what you need to do to survive. It’s admirable.”

Rey inhales slowly, and tries to find her calm. “I’m going to find a room.”

“And dream?”

She glares at the far too innocent question. “You know about the-?”

“I know a lot of things.”

“I’m going to _meditate,_ ” she corrects archly, storming down the hall before he can chase after her.

\--

The evening passes quietly. Luke joins her, for a little bit of the evening session. For a moment, everything feels _normal._ Or at least as close to normal as the two of them can get.

“You know,” Luke says, though his eyes remain closed, “I’ve never been in this base before.”

“Really?”

“Closed down before I joined up.” He shifts, one of his knees making a light ‘crack’ with the motion. “Lots of trap doors.”

Rey unwinds as she leaves her Jedi trance. “What are we doing here?” She asks with a directness she usually doesn’t use with him.

Luke runs his hand over his hair. “I’m not sure. Force stuff.”

“Force stuff.” Rey grins, despite herself. It quickly falls as the thought that's been weighing on her makes itself known again. “Aalto…worries me, Luke.”

“Me too.” He breathes in slowly through his nose. “But this is where he needs to go to heal.”

She bites down on her lip. “What is it he’s healing _from,_ exactly?”

“I don’t know for sure. But I can guess.” Luke rests his chin on the heel of his hand. “The Knights of Ren aren’t part of the Dark Side.”

“What?”

“Not by itself, they…” He frowns. “They use the Dark Side, but it’s not like Vader. Or the Sith. They’re in constant struggle, chaos. Straddling two paths without fully belonging to either.” His tone goes sad. “They get their strength from pain, from abusing the boundary between the Light and Dark. It’s dangerous, not just for their enemies, but also for the followers of Ren.”

Rey thinks about Kylo Ren, and how he would hit his wounds after they were received, how his presence felt like a maelstrom in the Force. Aalto’s isn’t quite the same, but she can see a similar philosophy. “So Aalto-?”

“Aalto wasn’t strong enough to endure that fight,” Luke says calmly. “He was a historian, a seer. But he was not a guardian or warrior or consular or philosopher. He learned about the paths, but there were many he couldn’t walk.” Luke’s blue eyes meet hers. “I think the toxicity of Aalto’s Force presence is what happens when someone fails in their training as a Knight of Ren.”

“It’s…it’s like a wound.”

“Yes. One caused by the Force attempting to fight inside one adept.” Luke shakes his head. “We were never meant to master all sides of the Force, Rey. Because the Force merely _is._ When one tries to control it, in ways it isn’t meant to be controlled…”

“They become Aalto.”

“That’s the theory.”

“What about Kylo?”

“Ben was always strong in the Force.” Luke looks at the ceiling. “Everyone in my family is. He could survive it, for a very, very long time if he chose to.”

Rey doesn’t know what to say to that. The bond, as it exists, doesn’t let her feel his connection to the Force as she can feel her own. It does, however, let her feel his struggle. His pain. She remembers their last fight, the way he hit the wound she gave him in the thigh and its pain and adrenaline ricocheted to her.

“That’s mad,” she whispers.

“It’s disappointing, the lengths some will go for power,” Luke whispers back.

\--

That night, she sees him. He’s lying on the bed next to her, wearing simple black sleep clothes and his eyes are closed. His chest lifts and sinks in an easy pattern. His hands are folded on his stomach, brows and mouth drawn tight. She doesn’t think he realizes he’s _here,_ that he’s projected to be with her in his sleep.

Not sure what else to do, Rey rolls until her back is toward him and closes her eyes.

\--

He's gone in the morning.

\--

Matale is a strange place. It reminds her a little of Niima, because the people there all have the same hungry look in their eyes as the scavengers on Jakku. The town is a ramshackle of buildings that surround a larger, more weathered one that has a historic look to it. There’s also several landing pads on the outskirts of the town, but Rey knows Luke has his good reasons for them staying at the Rebellion base.

The paperwork is a nightmare, and by the time Luke is on his third datapad for an archival permit, she’s ready to wave her hand over the cranky Sullustan’s face and be done with it. It’s only Luke’s small hum of disapproval that stills it.

“So you collect the Jedi poodoo, then?” The Sullustan asks.

Luke’s voice is far more patient than hers would ever be. “It’s a hobby.”

Aalto has been thankfully silent, but there’s tics to him that portray his impatience. His eyes dart around. The toe of his scuffed boot beats a pattern against the floor. He rolls his neck.

“Have somewhere to be?” She mutters sarcastically after his third or fourth sigh.

Aalto’s pale eyes land on her. He nods.

Rey frowns.

“Don’t like lines, scavenger. Don’t like _waiting._ Think that’s something we can agree on.”

“I can wait just fine.”

“Doesn’t mean you like it.” He taps his toes again. “I want to get started.”

“With?”

“Training.” Aalto rubs his hands against the outside of his pants. “Want it to be _quiet_ for a little bit.”

Rey thinks about the conversation she and Luke had the night before, and she glances at him. The Force is still hurting him, that much is clear. Her mind weighs the pros and cons against her own ethics, and her voice has a tentative truce to it when she speaks next.

“I. I guess we could work on that, then.”

Aalto turns. The smile he gives her is small and secretive.  
“Got something to show you, first.”

\--

The Enclave isn’t far from the outskirts of Matale—barely a twenty minute walk. The tall grass is soft, rather than irritating, and the suns high in the sky make it an almost pleasant experience. Rey closes her eyes, trying to follow the whispers that seem to live in the soil, roots, and air of this planet. She can’t make out a message, only impressions.

Loss. Sorrow. Hope.

“Very old,” Aalto mumbles by her side, starting to sweat again. “Too old to have voices for us.”

Rey adjusts a strap on her pack. They have enough supplies to camp for a few days in the Enclave. “You’ve studied this place, then.”

His chin dips. “And others. Is he quiet?”

Her mind conjures up the image of him asleep in her bed. “…yes.”

“Hard for us-“ his shoulder spasms, a quick and violent movement. “-to _be_ , here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Too many ghosts. Too many voices.” His teeth have a slight chatter to them. “All Light. All one side. Like trying to get a comm link with no receptor. It’s…”

Rey’s voice is softer than she’d like it to be. “…overwhelming.”

Aalto nods. “He’ll stay away from you, here. Unless it’s bad. Unless you call.”

Her mind flashes to the sleeping figure in her bed. “I won’t be doing that.”

“You never know.”

“But I suppose you do?”

Aalto taps one of his long fingers against his temple. “Sometimes. Not always. I see _paths,_ Jedi girl. And there’s a lot of them.”

Luke doesn’t turn around, but Rey knows he’s taking in the conversation, the tangible presence of the Force here. She takes a sip of water from her canteen, and looks around. After a few more moments, they see a silhouette in the distance.

Rey knows that it’s the Enclave. She closes her eyes, and the whispers let her see it as it once was.

Once, the Enclave was a tall, circular structure made of stone. There were trees inside of it once, winding and tall, with many leaves and benches surrounding them. Large basins, filled with plants, flowing with water like fountains. And…

And people. Rey’s stance falters a little when she sees it. Children, wearing tan robes and leggings, running and playing and levitating stones. Young apprentices, struggling to keep calm long enough to enter meditation. Grown men and women, watching and teaching with patient looks-

Aalto’s hand rests on her shoulder. Rey’s eyes snap open.

“Too old to have voices for us,” he repeats quietly.

Rey looks at Luke, her eyes brimming with tears as she stares past him to the _loss_ in front of her. Half of the Enclave is gone, patchworked stone walls and crumbling ruins in its place. The trees are nothing but stumps. There are no basins, no leaves, no flowing water. No one practicing their levitation or learning how to build a lightsaber.

There’s nothing but whispers. Nothing but ghosts.

Luke clears his throat, the leftover presence clearly effecting him just as strongly as it effects Rey, though she suspects for different reasons. “Follow me.”

She does, Aalto’s footsteps falling a second or two after her own.

\--

The Enclave’s infrastructure is mostly intact, save for a few spots of missing wall or ceiling. The first thing they discover is what appears to be the old archive, in the sublevels with a caved-in door that they spend several hours levitating debris from. Aalto doesn’t join them, expression pained as he sits to the side and tries to control whatever pain it is that’s overtaken him this time. As soon as they clear the entrance, she and Luke are coated with sweat and exhausted, but Rey thinks it’s worth it to watch Luke’s eyes go wide and his jaw go slack.

The archives have obviously been scavenged—Rey can tell by the small signs: consoles with programming spikes installed, missing spots on the shelves, a security door with a scorch mark by its wall panel, decorative statues with the gilding stripped off. But there’s still _so much,_ the shelves full of physical datapads and astronavigational charts, multiple consoles still flickering with electricity.

“Amazing,” Rey whispers.

“Yeah,” Luke whispers back.

Aalto, to the side, stays silent. Odd, Rey thinks, for someone who claimed to have once been a historian.

\--

They spend the better part of the day rewiring the consoles to portable power grids and breaking the ancient security codes. Rey’s an old hand at such things, but she’s surprised at the boyish grin on Luke’s face when he cracks open the scorched wall paneling.

“Used to making pieces of junk work,” he says, scrolling through an old codex of meditations.

She’s not the best of readers, having only learned the skill a few years ago and never having the time to dedicate to scholarship, but she preoccupies herself by opening up the astronavigational charts. Her face breaks into a smile as her gaze darts from planet to planet, star by star. The Jedi must have gone everywhere, all over the galaxy—

She senses Aalto’s presence quickly enough to step forward when he reaches for her arm again. Rey pivots. “What?”

Aalto’s eyes are distant once more, the miasma of him thick and choking. “Time to show you.”

“Show me what, exactly?”

“A room.”

“Just a room?”

“Just a room.”

Rey turns to face Luke. He looks up from his datapad, tired eyes resting on Aalto for far too long. Wordlessly, she asks her master: _what do you think?_

Luke’s lips press tightly together. He gives a slow nod. _I’ll be close._

Rey looks back to Aalto. “Let’s go.”

\--

After they leave the archive room, Rey follows him as he walks in front of her. Aalto doesn’t hesitate, making every turn with intention and never doubling back. She can’t shake the uneasy, unsettling feeling that he’s been here before.

Finally, he stops in front of an old door. It’s non-descript and grey, and matches several of the doors that line the narrow hall. There’s a crack in the middle, where some sort of moss has grown, and the air is stuffy and wet—mildew or mold.

When Aalto doesn’t move or make a gesture, she sends him a side glance before lifting her arm and swiping it to the right. The door sputters, shakes, then slides open under the pressure of her Force pull.

Their trek must have brought them back to the ground level of the Enclave, because there’s a window that allows a splash of orange-tinted sunlight to leak into the room. It’s…sparse. Three and a half walls remain, with a frame that must have once been a bed in the center of the room and pushed up to underneath the light. At its end is a small, metal footlocker—somehow still intact. Nothing else is remarkable about it, all that remains is growing moss, crumbling stone, and the sensation of something very, very _still._

Aalto is watching her as she enters what once must have been a bedroom, his pale eyes sharp and focused on her profile.

Rey crosses the threshold.  
There is only one whisper. Soft and distorted, it echoes around the space.

“You hear it.” Aalto’s voice is hushed, reverent.

She swallows, taking another step forward. The whisper still says nothing, but she can feel it. Her eyes drift closed, and she opens her senses.

 _Lonely,_ she thinks.

“What is it telling you?” She hears Aalto take a step forward, his voice growing louder. “What is it _saying_?”

 _Lonely. Staring_ out. _Thousands of stars, lined up one by one by one-_

“I’m…not sure.”

“Keep listening.”

She doesn’t know why she indulges him, but she does. Rey starts to let go of herself, to feel her mind open more-

 _Hello,_ she tries to greet the old whisper.

 _H…ello,_ it answers back in a language Rey doesn’t think she should be able to understand.

_I’m Rey. Who are you?_

_I’m-_

Suddenly, she stops. Her eyes snap open. Her mind slams shut.

“What?” Aalto asks, a feverish look in his eyes. “What is it?”

Rey puts her hand to her chest, just above the dip in her collar bone, right above her heart. Breathes in as everything feels supernaturally calm. Breathes out. And peels her hand away from her now burned tunic.

A red film traces her palm, her fingers. Blood drips lightly from her hand and slides to the floor as Rey falls to her knees. She has a half second to try and puzzle out what has happened before burning, screaming pain ignites in her chest like a bomb. The rest of her feels numb as her head tilts to the side.

“Shot,” she manages, before she pitches forward and hits the ground.

\--

_He’s strapped to a medical table, as First Order droids swarm around him with quick, ticking sounds. She feels it as he’s put back together, touches his mind as their shared consciousness returns._

Rey? _He thinks, his hand going to his chest. His matching wound._ Rey?!

_She doesn’t have a medical droid, she thinks numbly. That’s too bad._

_Kylo Ren pushes himself up, she feels his chest tear again. The droids surrounding him-them?-begin to re-suture the wound._

_“Rey!” He yells, causing the heads of a few medical personnel to turn to face him with concerned expressions. "Say something!"_

_He’s been shot, too, she realizes in a sluggish sort of way. The consoles and medical equipment around him start to tremble. Spark. Lift up off the ground._

_“REY!”_

_She feels herself start to leave. With a slow movement, she outstretches her hand. He reaches. Her fingers brush against his for an_ instant—real _and physical and warm—and then-_

_A console explodes. Rey fades._

_\--_

Later, there’s another voice.

_Rey. Come back home._

She follows it.

\--

Her breath comes violently back into her lungs, and Rey coughs and tries not to choke on her own inhalation. Luke hunches over her, sagging with relief. His hand hovers above her wound, a cool wash flooding her that loosens the tightening of her throat and chest. She gives one more awful inhale that burns its way down her throat before she tries to get her bearings.

“Shot-“ she manages again.

Luke’s eyes are red-rimmed. “I know.”

Gingerly, he places a hand under her back and lifts her into an embrace. Rey clutches her fingers into his robes, eyes squeezed shut and trying not to think about the vision—about the desperate pull Kylo Ren made to keep her alive after he was shot in the chest.

\--

After a few hours, and several rounds of healing from Luke, Rey has a new scar on her chest and there’s a small fire going in the middle of what was once the Enclave’s courtyard. Luke, exhausted and drained from the intensive healing, manages enough strength to run a final diagnostic and set up her bedroll before he drifts off into sleep.

Rey’s chest is tight, but it’s more of a twinging feeling than anything. She lifts the blanket around her shoulders and stares across the fire to where Aalto sits. Her mind is still trying to put the pieces together—one moment she had been standing in the empty room, the next shot in the chest. Rey tentatively searches the bond, but it’s gone quiet.

“Saw it,” Aalto mutters sorrowfully. “Didn’t know when.”

His fingers hover beneath the hollow of his throat, just above the heart.

Rey shifts her weight from where she sits, feeling tired and impossibly slow. “Thank you,” she whispers, “For getting Luke.”

He shakes his head. “Sooner. Should be sooner. Not later.”

She closes her eyes. “Is he…”

“Alive.”

Rey nods, staring into the fire.

“He shouldn't be,” Aalto says honestly, fingers twitching as he drops the hand from his chest.

She closes her eyes. There is nothing but silence behind them, but she knows, _knows,_ that Kylo Ren is alive somewhere. That he’s recovered from the blaster to his chest that has ricocheted to find her on Dantooine.

Rey also knows what she has to do next. She lifts her fingers and feels the raised skin on her chest, a wound that would have been fatal. The silence is welcome, and Rey feels herself beginning to drift off into sleep when she hears him speak again.

“Sometimes, you go to him.”

Rey comes back to attention, bunching the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Aalto stares into the fire, an elbow resting on bended knee, the other leg extended. The flames cast hollows in his sharply cut cheeks, and his pale and long fingers move as if they are playing music.

“Most times, he comes to you. But…” Aalto’s voice falls to a whisper. “Sometimes, you go to him.”

She says nothing, though she feels a tension in her as she realizes that Aalto is looking somewhere else besides their campfire. He is following the threads, seeing possibilities.

“And it usually ends in death. His. Yours. Both.” His fingers move quickly, little flutters of staccato—the crest of a symphony. “But sometimes it doesn’t.” Aalto voice once again shifts cadence, reverent and wistful. Longing. “Sometimes you stay _._ ”

His head turns slowly, seeking out her gaze. She looks away, studying the flames. Her fingers clench the fabric of the blankets harder.

“And what a beautiful and terrible thing you are, when you stay.” He shifts, facing completely toward her and resting on his knees. “How I would fall at your feet.”

Rey stands with sluggish movement, backing away from him. Aalto doesn’t seem to care, his eyes unfocused and distant as he grabs hold of one of those cosmic threads only he can see.

The next words are full of love _._ “On that path, I would do anything for my Master of Ren _._ ”

Rey leaves without a word or look back, blanket clutched tightly around her and the throb in her chest subsiding—in a few hours it’ll be as though it were never there at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -[RZ-1 A-Wing Interceptor](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/RZ-1_A-wing_interceptor)
> 
> -Matale is a city that was built up around the old [Matale Estate](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Matale_estate)
> 
> -[The Jedi Enclave](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Jedi_Enclave)
> 
> -I see the Force practice of the Knights of Ren as the warped/negative interpretation of [The Unifying Force](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Unifying_Force)
> 
> -Aalto is also a practitioner of [Flow-walking](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Flow-walking), more on this later ;o)


	11. Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a twofer! now with 60% more agonized feelings. thanks everyone for the amazing comments last chapter :D i'll be getting to them shortly <3
> 
>  **Update** : I was feeling particularly masochistic and went back and added new end notes with EU links to every chapter-- some fun (and maybe spoilery :3) info there if you want to browse :D

\--  
_Before  
\--_

_“Wake up.”_

_Rey groans, coughing up what feels like a layer of dust from her lungs. A long, pale hand offers her a canteen and she reluctantly accepts, her head spinning. She grimaces. The water is gritty. Vertigo hits her, so she waits a moment before her mind orientates itself. Rey tries to remember where she is, and how she managed to end up unconscious yet again._

_“What did you do,” she accuses._

_Kylo stares down at her. Expression far from amused. “Still afraid?”_

_“Why? Does it make you feel better?” She wipes the back of her hand across her mouth._

_“The entrance was rigged with explosions.” His tone is scathing. “A Rebellion trap.”_

_The memory comes back to her slowly. The tripwire, the collapsing wall-  
His arm around her waist, pulling her back-_

_Rey takes another drink of water. He’d saved her life. Again. And this time…there was likely a supply of serviceable equipment in the base. Equipment she was pretty sure even Kylo Ren could manage to install, after all the work she's done on the shuttle. Rey looks up at him and he stares at her. After a moment, she turns away._

_“…I’m guessing we’re on the wrong side of the entrance.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Alright.” With a staggering motion, she moves into a stand and brushes the dust from her tunic and leggings. She eyes the caved-in wall with annoyance. To be so close to their goal…_

_She stretches her arms over her head, cracking her knuckles. “This will be fun.”_

_Kylo sends her a slow, side-long glance._

_\--_

_Her arms are aching, her head is feeling fuzzy, but she thinks they’re finally starting to see a gap to the inside of the compound. With another wave, she harnesses the Force and telekinetically shoves the debris to the side. Kylo does the same, his movements an echo of her own. It’s strange, she thinks, the way they seem to work in tandem. And uneasy._

_“Tell me about Jakku,” he says, breaking the silence she’s been enjoying for the last few hours._

_“It’s a desert,” she mutters, outstretching her fist and Force-crushing a smaller piece of collapsed wall._

_“And you were alone.”_

_Her next Force pull is a little more violent. “You know that already, remember.” Revulsion settles in her stomach when she recalls their encounter on the Starkiller base. Her hands and legs in restraints, Kylo searching her mind for what didn’t belong to him._

_He’s silent as they continue excavating the door, his lips pressed tightly together._

_\--_

_When they finally get inside the base, Rey learns—not for the first time—that Kylo Ren is not a bastion of patience._

_“What are we looking for?” He growls, as they scavenge the empty halls one by one._

_She knows they’re both exhausted after getting almost blown up and Force hauling away a miniature avalanche, but she’s never felt sympathy for him and she’s not about to start. “Control rooms. It’s likely they were destroyed before the Rebellion left, but it’s worth a try.”_

_Kylo glares, but follows her lead. Despite his surly demeanor, she catches him looking around from time to time. Staring at the Rebellion insignias, hands ghosting over tables. She wonders, for the first time, what the son of Leia Organa might look like—rather than the tool of the First Order he became._

_Hesitantly, she decides to attempt a rather delicate line of questioning. “Have you been in a Rebellion base before?”_

_He shoots her a dark look. She raises her hands._

_“It might help us find what we’re looking for faster.”_

_Kylo is silent. Rey runs a hand through her hair, redoing the half-ponytail style she’s adopted since losing some of her ties._

_“…Right then,” she mutters._

_\--_

_An hour passes, and it seems that it’s enough to make him cave._

_“I was a child when I was last in one of these,” he starts, defensive._

_She wants to roll her eyes at his attempted evasion of life before ridiculously heavy dark robes and menacing masks. “Any ideas?”_

_Kylo’s brows draw together, and if Rey didn’t know any better, she would say he looked as though he were in pain. There’s a slow buzz in her ear, like the sound of an old holorecording._

“Look, Leia, I had my back turned for half a second-“

“-and Ben managed to find the armory. He’s _six._ ”

“Can’t help it if he got the Solo looks _and_ brains-”

 _Rey blinks. Kylo is staring at nothing._ Ben. _Is staring at nothing._

_“Follow me,” he says quietly, fingers clenched at his side._

_She does._

_\--_

_Fifteen minutes later, they find what looks to be what’s left of the command center. And Rey was correct- most of it’s damaged. But still worth a shot. Quickly, she finds the most intact-looking console and begins to remove her salvaging pack from around her waist—programming spikes, a multi-kit. The basics that she’s been able to carve a living from._

_Her…partner, of sorts, finds a chair. His face is contorted in anger, fingers digging into the arm rests. He stares at her expectantly, as though anticipating her to ask him about whatever it is he’s experiencing. She doesn’t. Instead, she keeps her attention on the console, working through encryptions in order to hopefully get both astronavigational charts and an inventory of telemetry dishes in the base._

_After a half hour of being ignored, Kylo decides to break the silence._

_“Jakku was good for you.”_

_Rey’s fingers still from where they’re punching in keys. “…what.”_

_“Your time alone, it was to your benefit.” When she turns her head to look at him, she sees his face is in a scowl. “…scavenging taught you useful skills.”_

_Rey's anger is palpable on her chest, and her grip on the multi-kit tightens. “Don’t compliment me,” she bites out._

_“It was an observation.”_

_“Keep it to yourself, all the same.”_

_She’s silent for a few more minutes, before the anger stewing within her wins over the resolve to be silent. “You have_ no idea _what Jakku was like!”_

_“Then tell me.”_

_“Why would that even matter to you?”_

_His brown eyes rest on her, his expression tightly controlled. “…I’m curious.”_

_Rey snorts at his entitlement, angrily inserting another programming spike after she finishes clearing a firewall. “Then you answer a question for me first.”_

_“Fine.”_

_She wasn’t prepared for his easy acceptance. But she turns back to him, her voice level._

_“Explain to me how a boy with a family that loves him becomes a creature in a mask.” She clenches her jaw. “Tell me what happened to Ben Solo.”_

_His nostrils flare and his eyes narrow. She keeps his gaze, and after a moment he pushes himself up from the chair and storms out of the room._

_\--_

_She’s broken the firewall and has started scanning the inventory for telemetry systems when he returns. She looks over her shoulder and meets his stare. He’s paler than usual._

_“Ben Organa,” he corrects tightly, and reaches over to gesture at the screen._

_Rey’s eyes dart to it, where his finger rests on a line describing a telemetry system compliant with his shuttle. She swallows, hands suddenly clammy. It’s only a serial code, meaning-_

_“You’re familiar with astromechanics?”_

_“Some.”_

_Rey tries to pull the pieces together. Han, she knows_ , _would teach his son at least the basics of repairs. She bites her lip as that old, familiar grief hits her._

_His hand drops from the screen, but stays close to her side. “Your turn.”_

_She looks ahead, so she doesn’t have to look at him. “I traded three days’ worth of food for reading lessons. I wanted to learn Aurebesh so I could read the names on the helmets I found.”_

_He’s silent for a moment. “My mother hired tutors.” His voice goes soft, distant. “Except for politics and history. Those she taught me myself. Until I was sent away.”_

_Rey swallows, the room suddenly feeling too small. “Let’s go,” she whispers, pulling out the datadrive with the serial number._

_\--_

_They find the telemetry system they need in a cargo hauler's auxiliary kit. They make a silent, exhausted truce to remove it the next morning._

\--  
**Now  
** \--

At some point in her sleep, she shifts. And something changes—the air isn’t as cool or crisp, the surface she’s laying on dips with her movements. Her fingers pull up the edge of the blanket, only to find that it’s soft under hands instead of the scratchy nerf fabric in her travel pack.

There is breathing near her ear.  
Rey opens her eyes.

The first thing she notices is that the room is dark, bathed a slate color in the night. There is a pillow under her head, and she registers that she is still wearing her travel clothes: sleeveless, off-white tunic. Fitted grey vest. Even her calf-high boots are still on.

She darts her gaze up.  
Kylo Ren is already watching her, his expression soft.

Rey cautiously lifts her fingers to the spot on his chest, just below the collar bone. She feels the raised skin underneath the thin bacta patch. It’s a perfect match for her own scar. She trails the edges in feather-light movements.

He says nothing, but shifts so that he is also lying on his side. After a few moments, he lifts his arm, then tenses.

Rey lets out a slow breath. _It’s alright,_ she concedes to herself. _It’s alright._

Kylo’s arm stays still for another moment, before he moves it along its planned path. His hand hovers above her waist.

Rey waits, before tucking her head under his chin.  
At her silent permission, his arm shifts to her back and pulls her tightly against him. His hand flexes between her shoulder blades, his fingertips sliding into her hair.

She closes her eyes, and listens to the sound of their heartbeats in tandem as she drifts back to sleep.  
_  
Goodbye._

\--

In the morning, she wakes up on the ground, the air cool and smelling of extinguished campfire. Rey’s chest twinges in pain, but she meets Aalto’s knowing stare with a hesitant nod.

The bond needs to be broken. And soon.

\--

The days pass quickly once they establish a routine between the three of them. The mornings are spent together—meditation followed by some time in the old archive. In the afternoons, sparring. And at night…

At night her and Aalto talk.

“You have to find your strength,” he starts, four days after she was shot.

It’s been a lackluster three evenings of meditation since then, Rey doing what she can to try and understand the connection between her and Kylo. Luke keeps to the edges of the encampment—enough space to give Rey her privacy, but close enough for Aalto to know he’s being watched. So far, there hasn’t been anything. No more night visits. No pulls on the tether between them. She starts to think of the ghosts of Dantooine as friends, forces that keep her hidden as she attempts to sever their connection once and for all. Instead of Kylo’s feelings in the Force, there’s only their whispers.

“What do you mean?” They are sitting across from each other, the backs of their hands resting on their knees.

“What comes easiest to you, Rey?” Aalto’s pale eyes watch her, and she intrinsically knows he already has the answer he wants her to provide. “What can you do better than the Masters?”

“Fight,” she says without hesitation. Her lightsaber an ever familiar weight between her shoulder blades.

Aalto shakes his head.

Rey watches him as he lifts his hand. His eyes stare past her, fingers twitching in the air. “At night, desperate to sleep, you’d imagine an ocean.”

She tenses. “ _Don’t._ ”

“Later, you find the island. There, you dream of the jungle-“

Rey reacts automatically, eyebrows drawn and-

 _They call him the Monk. It’s not a kind nickname. His entire life, he’s been too_ less than. _Now, even here in the jungle with only sixteen others, he still falls behind. Too distracted to fight, too anxious to channel the Force in the ways his classmates can._

 _He lives in different days than the rest of them, sees things they can’t. And he_ knows _that it doesn’t matter how hard he trains, or how long he attempts to meditate—all his paths go to one place._

_The other students start looking for crystals to build their lightsabers. Master Luke only gives him another holocron to read._

“ _Not yet, Aalto.”_

_But he knows not **ever**._

Rey slams the mental door shut, blinking focus back into her mind as she stares across at Aalto. He’s smiling, face far too calm for someone who’s just had a memory rifled through.

“Yes,” he whispers. “That’s it.”

She tenses. Deep down, she knows it’s true. That her abilities with persuasion and telepathy have always come easy to her, that she could go into someone’s memory and find whatever she needed with little effort-

“That’s not how I do things,” she manages, remembering all too clearly what it felt like to have Kylo read her mind. To see her lonely nights, her private wishes for a home and family. Things he hadn’t deserved to know, things he couldn’t have understood.

“You’re afraid,” Aalto observes. “Why?”

Rey looks down. “That’s. It’s not-“

“Right?” Aalto straightens his posture. The corner of his lip starts to twitch. “It’s not of the Dark Side.”

Rey juts her chin. “It could be.”

His colorless eyes stare straight at her. “It could also be used for Light. It could also just _be._ ” He tilts his head. “Imagine, Rey. Imagine what can be achieved through empathy.”

She looks down.

“Try again,” Aalto states. “Try it.” He spreads his palms wide, an invitation.

Rey hesitates. In the air, she hears the whispers—they say nothing she can understand, but she feels something shift. Feels herself willing to…to try.

She bites her lip. “Stop me when… when you should.”

Aalto nods.

She exhales and closes her eyes.

 _He is alone, sitting in the empty auditorium. The_ boy _enters the room, his black hair cropped short and limbs too long for his body. He hovers by the entrance, waiting for something._

 _Aalto tries to find his voice, wonders if the boy is here_ now _or if he will be in the future or if he was in the past. “What do you want?”_

_The boy stares at him with brown eyes. “Uncle Luke says you’re a seer.”_

_Aalto looks past him, saying nothing as the boy walks toward where he sits. As he moves, Aalto sees him age—sees his hair grow to his shoulders, his body catch up with his limbs. Sees the dark mask, the red pulse of a lightsaber._

_“What do you see for me?”_

_Aalto only raises his hand to his own face. Underneath his small fingers there’s the ridges of his_ own _mask, under a heavy black hood that ends at his heels. The robe of a monk, he thinks._

_“I see death.”_

Rey feels sweat bead on her forehead.

“Go on,” Aalto instructs.

She obeys.

 _Invisible fingers burrow into the skin, push until they’re in his chest, his throat, his thoughts. He can’t breathe, can’t_ see. _Pain is all there is, tearing at his sinew and skin like carrion. Until there’s nothing but the bones underneath._

_“Disappointing, Aalto Ren,” his new master says. Shame floods through him._

_“Again,” Aalto pleads. “_ Please _, let me try again_. _”_

_Pain bursts anew. Aalto sinks to his knees, hands extended above him as if he could grasp the path he could never walk-_

“There.” Aalto’s brows twitch, the toxicity of his aura spreading like water from a sieve. “Stop there.”

Rey opens her eyes, feeling the muscles of her arms and legs going into spasms with the second-hand pain from the vision. Her body is sweating, lip twitching and hands shaking.

“What was that?” She manages after a moment.

“The training,” Aalto speaks far too softly, “The training of Ren.”

She cringes. So much pain, and for what? Her mind goes to Kylo, the ache in her chest.

Aalto’s next statement is quiet, almost shy. “I want you to take it away.”

Her eyes snap to his face. His shaking frame that she knows she is emanating. “What?”

“I want you to see.” He coughs, shoulders pitching forward. “I want you to _see_ one of the ways you are so important to me.”

Rey shakes her head. “I can’t-“

“You _can._ ” He leans forward. “Heal it, Rey. Take it away.”

She frowns, trying to hear the whispers. Trying to listen to what the Force wants. _Try,_ comes the voice of Luke in her head, and Rey turns her attention across camp. Luke is quietly cooking beans, but his attention is alert and present in the Force. _Try, Rey. And we’ll go from there._

Resolve blossoming with her mentor’s encouragement, Rey hesitantly swallows.

“What do I do?”

Aalto smiles like the sun. “Listen to Dantooine, listen to the ghosts.”

Rey closes her eyes. The whispers curl around her, as nearly tangible as spiderwebs. She lifts her hand, and presses two fingers against Aalto’s forehead.

She finds the memory, the pain of training. The agony of two sides of the Force competing over the small space of one body. She feels the spasms once more—how they burrowed under Aalto’s skin like worms, tearing him apart.

Rey exhales. And hears the voice, the quiet whisper from the room she was in before the shooting.

_Watch the stars, one by one by one._

She _pulls,_ winding the pain, the memory of it, around her two fingers like thread. Gathering it from the body, and releasing it back to the Force, to the ghosts.

Rey knows when it’s done. She curls her fingers back into her palm and slumps forward.  
Aalto’s eyes roll back, and he falls to the ground.

\--

The memory of pain is gone.  
And the next morning, Aalto’s teeth chatter less.

\--

A week later, she tries it again with Aalto’s permission.  
Another memory, another pull.  
And the wound of Aalto’s presence in the Force starts to fold itself shut, just a little at a time.

Rey tries not to think past what is directly in front of her. Doesn’t attempt to entertain the dangerous what-ifs that are floating in her mind.

\--

Luke leaves to get more supplies from the abandoned base the same day she finds the cave.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, the sun burning gently down on them as she and Aalto go for their daily run. He doesn’t have the same stamina she does, and so she takes a moment to rest as he catches up, finding shade underneath one of the sparse trees of the plains. Her hands rest on her knees, as her breath falls in small little pants.

The wind blows through the grass. Quiet, until she hears a voice cut through the ever-present pulse of Dantooine's ghosts.

_Rey._

She straightens, frowning as she tries to place the location of the sound. She turns around, only to see that Aalto is still a good distance away—a small speck of beige on the horizon. She lifts her canteen for a drink-

_Rey._

“What?” She mutters, drawing the back of her hand across her mouth. She extends her senses, and her eyes are drawn to her right. After a moment, they land on a small, narrow opening in the rocks. One she hadn’t noticed before.

_Rey._

She looks back to Aalto. Then the cave.

Hesitantly, she grabs her lightsaber and steps sideways to squeeze through the opening.

\--

The cave is pitch dark but for the small sliver of sunlight from the entrance. Rey’s thumb slides across her ignition switch, twin blades emerging from opposite ends of the hilt. Silver light floods the narrow walkway of the cavern as she presses forward, following the distant calling of her name.

The cave is quiet, and her eyes drift up to see swarms of kinrath sleeping around egg clusters on the edges of the cavern. She pushes out with the Force, willing them to stay unconscious as she passes. As she moves forward, the lighting in the cave begins to shift, pale yellows, blues, and greens starting to glow in streaks around her.

_Rey._

She halts her step. The whispers are silent, here, save for the one calling her name. She pushes her senses out with the Force, searching for it.

_I’m here._

Her boots make soft echoes as she takes another step forward-

-and drops.

\--

_These are old steps._

_\--_

“Wake up.”

Her body aches, but Rey splays her hand against the ground and pushes herself up. Everything hurts, especially her back, which is enough to let her know that she landed on it. She brushes off her pants and vest, dust flying from them.

Her eyes adjust, then widen, as she takes in the crystals lining the cavern. Rows of them, big and small. All glowing in various shades, emitting pulses of energy in the Force. They form a circle around where she landed, parting only to reveal a small, underground lake.

She stares at them for a moment, before she turns her attention to Kylo Ren.

He stands across from her in the cavern, dressed in his full black robes and mask. His strange, new lightsaber is in his hand. Rey absently bends to a knee to pick up hers, the hilt a familiar weight as she slides it back into its holster.

“I suppose this is a vision,” she manages after the silence stretches between them.

“No,” he corrects her curtly. The lights from the crystals reflect on the metal of his helmet.

Reluctantly, Rey nods. It’s gotten to the point where she just accepts whatever the Force decides to throw at her. Her eyes trail around them, following the flickering lights and the feeling of awe is almost overwhelming. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“Neither have I.”

She hesitantly searches for the whisper that called her here, but it’s gone. Kylo Ren is in its place. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” His tone is sharp, and she can tell he hasn’t been enjoying the search.

Rey doesn’t ask him why. They both know why. Instead she crouches down beside one of the glowing crystals. This one is amethyst in color, coating her arms and face with its purple light. It also highlights the circular scar on her chest. Kylo takes a few steps toward her, until she sees his frayed hems in her peripheral vision.

“I’m tired of wasting time.”

Rey doesn’t like his tone. Doesn’t like what she hears in it.

“I can’t protect you when you run from me.”

She rests her chin on the heel of her hand and doesn’t look way from the crystal. “So now I’m something you want to protect?”

His anger spikes between them. “Rey.”

Her voice goes quiet. “Ben.”

“That name means nothing.”

“It means something to me. And your mother. And Luke-“ she shakes her head. “He still calls you Ben, you know. Even after what you did. He’ll never call you anything else.”

“And you think that should matter.”

“I think something besides power should matter to you.”

“…something does.”

Rey bunches her shoulders, curling her fingers in front of the newest scar. How many more are they destined to share? She takes a slow breath, trying not to remember the night after she received it, the small little piece of surrender she had given him.

“How did you get shot, Kylo.”

The hemline in her vision moves away, as he begins to start a slow pace. “What do you want from me?” He suddenly yells in frustration.

Rey feels the familiar ache of disappointment. “Answer the question.”

“We found the Resistance base,” he growls.

Her chest hurts. “…Leia?”

Instead of answering, he drops to his knees beside her. His masked face hovers beside her profile. “How can they matter to you? I-”

She turns away from him, and his gloved hand grabs her shoulder. Firmly, as if that would be able to keep them both rooted here. When she doesn’t acknowledge him, he slams his other fist into the ground and her knuckles ache.

“She escaped. After her pilot shot me with his blaster.”

 _Poe._ Rey sags in relief.

“That’s the best outcome for you, isn’t it?” His voice is bitter. “It doesn’t even matter that we were both nearly killed-”

“I’m going to figure out how to stop the bond,” she whispers.

“…you can’t.”  

Rey’s not sure if it’s skepticism or a plea. She turns to face him, his masked face close above her own. His hand slides down from her shoulder to her wrist, and she allows him to hold it.

“You _can’t,_ ” he reiterates.

“I have to.” She presses her hand against her chest. “This was too close.”

“You weren’t meant to…”

“I know.”

“You’re blinded by the Jedi,” he snarls.

“I _am_ a Jedi.”

“ _That’s not all that you are_.”

She glares. “And I suppose I should become a Knight of Ren? Be torn apart by pain until it makes me toxic in the Force?”

“So Aalto’s still alive,” he realizes. “I told you to kill him.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

“ _Kill him,”_ Kylo demands, “Or I will.”

“Why? What does he matter to you now?”

The mask reveals nothing, but it can’t hide Kylo’s feelings from her. His anger and desperation are palpable things. She can feel his hatred for Aalto through the bond…and his fear of him. She frowns.

“Kylo?”

“Not now,” he barks, and it takes her a moment to realize it’s not directed at her. Wherever he _actually_ is, he’s been interrupted. A moment passes, and then he puts his fingers underneath her chin, tilting it up. For a bizarre instant, she almost thinks-

“They won’t matter forever, Rey.” His fingers slide over her cheek and into her hair. “Soon-“ he gives a slow inhale. “We-”

“I want you to leave me alone,” she interrupts.

His other fist clenches. “Because you don’t want to kill me.”

“We’ve had this conversation before,” she snaps. "My mind hasn't changed."

“I know.” He shifts, until he crouches between her and the crystal. “And I told you I wouldn’t let them make you into their tool. I meant it.”

“So what are you going to do.”

“Kill Luke. Then the defect.”

She violently shoves his hand away-  
-and he’s gone.

Rey sits alone, her hands bunched into fists on her thighs, and wonders how long it will take him to figure out which planets have caverns full of Force crystals. And what she's capable of doing when that time comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Aalto's [Knight of Ren threads](http://static.wixstatic.com/media/c7a88f_dcac035f8b8247e6ba14015103d96d11.png/v1/fill/w_687,h_639,al_c/c7a88f_dcac035f8b8247e6ba14015103d96d11.png)
> 
> -[Kinrath](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Kinrath)
> 
> -Wiping and altering memories is a Force technique that has been used in the EU by [Jaina Solo](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Jaina_Solo_Fel), [Kyp Durron](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Kyp_Durron), and others
> 
> -Healing/preserving the mind through Force manipulation has been used by [Bastila Shan](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Bastila_Shan)
> 
> -[The Crystal Cave](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Crystal_Cave_\(Dantooine\))


	12. Almost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triple update weekend!! Thank you again for the amazing comments-- I've never gotten such great feedback on my writing before & it's been more than motivating. I'll be replying to them shortly! :D 
> 
> Also I was feeling particularly masochistic and went back and added new end notes with EU links to every chapter-- some fun (and maybe spoilery :3) info there if you want to browse :D

_\--_  
Before  
\--

_They talk._

_It’s one of the last things Rey ever expected to happen. But there’s something about tonight, about knowing that they’re going to return to their own lives soon, that makes this moment all the more precarious. Maybe even cathartic._

_They lay on cots that are across the room from each other, a glow stick emitting a small dome of yellow light in the center of the old racks._

_Maybe talking isn’t the right word._ He _talks. Kylo tells her about Coruscant, what little memories he can piece together from it. He stares at the ceiling of the old base, hands folded on his stomach, and explains his tutoring. The favorite diner he would sneak off to as a child. In the face of her silence, he even, briefly mentions the man who was once his father._

_It doesn’t sound like a perfect childhood, Rey concedes. Most of Kylo’s stories don’t include Han, and often it is someone from Leia’s staff that accompanies him in his memories. But it’s not cruel, or miserable, either. It’s clear, from his painful attempts to keep his explanations distant and removed that for whatever his parents lacked in time, they made up for in love._

_“Why am I telling you this?” he finally whispers, the troubled expression on his profile highlighted in gold._

_Rey wars with herself. It would be easy, right now, to tell him that it’s his own fault the memories are_ memories. _To redraw the line. But maybe it’s the old Rebellion base, or the part of her conscious that sounds suspiciously like Luke that curbs her._

_She thinks about Jakku. About being a child and watching lights in the sky fade away as they leave her behind. Rey knows a lot about being lonely. Enough to recognize it in other people._

_“Maybe…” she starts, sounding just as troubled. “It’s because you haven’t been able to tell it yet.”_

_He shifts, until he is facing her. And Rey doesn’t know what to do with the new, vulnerable look that’s in his eyes._

_“Jedi nonsense,” he says softly, but he doesn’t sound like he entirely believes it._

_Rey rests her chin on the heel of her hand. “You know it isn’t.”_

_“Do I?”_

_“You know it’s kept you alive.” She shifts, growing uncomfortable at the way he keeps staring. It’s…it’s not the same as the stares before._

_“_ You’ve _kept me alive,” he corrects. “Not the Jedi.”_

 _She tenses. It’s the first time he’s…not blamed her, for something. Rey looks away, keeps her attention focused on the glow stick lying on the floor because it’s easier to understand than whatever_ that _is across from her._

_“What did you see on Jakku?” she finally asks._

_Kylo considers his words carefully, and when he answers she knows he’s not giving her the whole truth and she’s happier for it. “Tally marks. What felt like thousands of them. Empty bowls. A frayed doll made out of an old flight suit.”_

_Rey runs a hand through her hair. “Any different than what you saw before, when-“_

_“No,” he interrupts. He sounds dazed, as if he’s trying to figure something out for himself. “It was exactly the same. But…”_

_Rey keeps her attention fixed on the small light between them, keeping shadows at bay._

_“…I saw it differently.”_

_She looks up. He’s frowning, angry at himself. Angry at himself in the same way that Rey is upset at herself for listening to him. And something, she knows, has shifted completely under her feet._

_“Rey…?” he whispers, a question he’s not aware that he’s asking._

_She squeezes her eyes close, and turns so that her back is facing him._

_“I’ll have the repairs finished a day after we get back,” she whispers in reply, willing herself to sleep. Imagining the ocean for the first time in a long, long while._

\--  
**Now  
** \--

 

She senses him before she hears his boots slide down the ledge she fell from. Rey doesn’t move, not even when Aalto speaks.

“We have three days,” he states quietly.

His footfalls make hollow echoes in the cavern, and Rey reluctantly tears her attention away from the purple crystal in front of her.

“Until he’s here?” She asks.

Aalto nods. In the shadowed light of the cavern, he looks more like a ghost than ever—his already pale features exaggerated by the odd-colored casts. He takes a step forward, and sits next to her.

“You’re not going to tell Luke.”

“Of course I’m going to tell Luke.”

“Not yet,” Aalto says. “Not until tomorrow.”

“Why wait?” She doesn’t try to hide her suspicion. Aalto’s…not as simple to dislike, as she initially imagined, but that doesn’t mean she trusts him.

“We’re going to stay here tonight. In the cave.”

“You’re awfully confident.”

His lip twitches. Ever since she removed two of the memories of Snoke, he’s been more…still. Less spasms, less sweat. He still looks exhausted, but it’s starting to be less wraith-like. “These are old steps,” he explains, “I want you to walk them with me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it will help you defeat him.” Aalto’s voice gains an edge of desperation. “It’ll help you _see._ ”

She tenses. “Like you?”

“Almost.”

Rey thinks of the sweat, the maniacal ramblings and taunts. Some of his words haven’t left her, and she doesn’t want to go down any terrain she isn’t familiar with.

“Rey,” Aalto begs, “Let me show you the paths.”

At her hesitance, he presses forward. “It will save Luke.”

She glares. “What do you mean it will save Luke.”

Aalto’s fingers twitch. “Kill Luke. Then the defect-“ Rey’s mouth goes dry at his parroting of Kylo’s earlier words, “- _Kill him_ or I will.”

“How did you-?”

He knocks his knuckles against his forehead. “All the threads, Rey. Wrapping around each other. Making the paths.” His eyes flash. “Ours are always meant to intersect. A trade.”

“For?”

Aalto blinks, confused. Then there’s a brief, dry sound—she imagines it’s the closest he can get to a laugh. “For what you took from me.”

Rey’s fingers curl into her palms. “That’s nothing.”

“It’s _everything_.” He adjusts in his seat, legs folded and the backs of his hands resting on his knees. “Find your strength, Jedi girl.”

“Tell me how it will save Luke,” Rey counters, fighting to keep herself calm.

“Follow me on the paths…” Aalto’s head tips back slightly. “And _be._ ”

“And what is that supposed to mean.”

“I told you we were going to be traveling for a long time,” he deadpans. “I was literal.”

In a slow, crawling sort of motion he extends a hand to her. The other goes to that spot on his chest, the place where Rey has a scar.

“I am not the one who will hurt you,” he promises. “Listen to the Force, and you’ll know.”

Rey tries. But the cavern is silent—no whispers, no echoes. The crystals around them hum with an energy that is neither a warning nor encouragement. Everything exists in stillness, a suspension. She should walk away. She should find her footing, climb back to the plain. Tell Luke about Kylo, about the three days. But instead, Aalto’s words circle in her mind.

_It will save Luke._

Her heart pounding, she raises her hand. Aalto smiles, wide and brilliant, as her fingers brush his.

“Just another step,” he says softly, and the cavern falls away from her.

\--

She blinks, and she’s leaning against a metal crate. When Rey looks up, there’s metal rafters instead of stone. It’s dark, but not as dark as the cavern, a few lights flickering above her head. Bracing her hands against the cool, grated floor, she pushes herself up and tries to adjust to her new surroundings.

Rows and rows of shipping crates greet her, the serial numbers on all of them replaced by scratched-out metal. Used for smuggling, more often than not. She’d seen her fair share of them on Jakku. The warehouse, or at least what she thinks is a warehouse, feels empty—she can’t feel another presence in the Force. Except…

 _Aalto?_ She tries.

 _Here._ His voice sounds in her head, not in the room. As clear as if he were sitting across from her in the cavern.

Rey frowns. _What is this?_

 _You’ve been here before,_ is all he offers. _You’ll be here again._

Before she can berate him for never providing an actual _answer,_ there’s a sound of metal being knocked over nearby, followed by a muffled swear.

Rey’s hand goes for the lightsaber at her back, and tenses when her fingers meet only air. Brows furrowed, she walks as quietly as she can, pressing against a crate. Once again she casts out her senses, but while she detects someone, their presence is dim. A non-Force sensitive. Her coiled muscles relax. One non-sensitive, even an armed one, shouldn’t present much of a danger if it came down to it.

Rey counts to three.  
And looks around the edge.

Her breath catches.

He’s lurched over a workbench, the dark hair that escapes a small bun jammed underneath the goggles that are pushed up to his forehead. The seat is too low to the ground for his long frame, so one of his booted feet rests above the other, knees severely bent. The grey, buttoned shirt that he wears has the sleeves messily bunched up around his elbows, the black vest over it completely opened.

Rey numbly takes a step out from behind the container.

His fingers are coated in dark grease. There’s another smudge of it on his cheek.

He looks up. Brown eyes narrow in a face that’s bisected from a scar.

“How’d you get down here?”

She can’t move.

“Hey!” He sets down a scoured carburetor.

“What is this?” She whispers.

The man in front of her isn’t Force sensitive.  
The man in front of her is-

 _It’s a thread,_ Aalto mutters.

With an aggravated sigh, he pointedly unfolds himself from his stool. “A closed dock, for one.” His mouth twists into a grimace. “Dameron put you up to this, didn’t he?”

 _Poe._ She takes a hesitant step forward. “I don’t understand.”

He crosses his arms. “What?”

Rey moves forward until she’s just a step away from him.  
He frowns at her.

Everything hangs for a moment.

His annoyance melts away, replaced with something softer. “I know you,” he mutters. “How do I know you?”

For some reason, she feels almost near tears. Her hand goes up, and when he doesn’t back away, she allows herself to trail her fingers over the line of his cheek, tracing the smudge of grease. He closes his eyes. She wipes it away with her thumb.

“I’m Rey.”

He parts his lips, “I’m-“

The warehouse vanishes around her.

\--

“-Ben.”

\--

She’s in a jungle. The air is humid and heavy, her clothes instantly sticking to her in the heat.

“Where-?”

_Same thread. Different direction._

“Any reason why.”

A terse silence.

“…right.”

Rey takes a step forward, her hand brushes back a low-hanging tree frond-  
-and a boy’s on the other side, his near-colorless eyes going wide as he recoils from her.

After the initial shock passes, a different sort of fear crosses his small face. He can’t be more than ten. “Are you…” His lip twitches to one side. “Are you _here_?”

Rey drops to one knee so they’re eye-level. Takes in the almost white hair, the pale skin gone ruddy from the sun. She tries to keep her tone friendly. Kind.

“No, I don’t think so.”

His hands begin to toy with the edge of his sleeves. “Which way are you going?”

“Forward, I suppose.”

“So I’ll see you later?”

“…yeah. In a bit.”

He extends her a hand to shake. “I’m Aalto. Are you the Jedi girl?”

“Yes.” She lifts her hand to meet it. “I’m Rey.”

His small fingers brush her own-

\--

Rey looks down at the same hand, though much older, intertwined with hers.

Sending Aalto a weary look, she withdraws from his touch. He lets her go without a fight. The cave around them is silent, save the occasional drip of water from stalactites.

“What was that.”

“A path for you to walk.” He is looking past her, and Rey feels a chill work its way down her spine. Her tunic is still sticking to her skin from the jungle’s heat. “I have others. This was only a start.”

“Time…travel?” She offers, her mind still trying to fit the puzzle pieces together.

“No.” Aalto tilts his head. He grins, and it’s all teeth. “Going with the flow.”

“The flow.”

“There’s currents, they’ll keep moving. No matter what we do. Sometimes, I can see how things could be-“ Rey’s mind conjures the image of…of Ben, “-sometimes I see what they once were.” He shifts forward as if they’re sharing a secret. “And sometimes I see what’s actually going to happen.”

“So you can’t…change anything?”

“No. What will be, will be. What has been is already over.” He cracks his neck. “But what will be is hard to know. Like I said, there are many paths.”

“How can you tell?” Rey mutters. “If there’s so many threads, how can you tell which one is real?”

The former Knight of Ren drums his fingers on his knee. “I guess.”

She thinks about the man called Ben. His absence in the Force. Rey runs her fingers over her knuckles, which are still sore from where he had slammed his fist on the ground. That now have small, pale burn scars from the emissions of his lightsaber.

“And on one of these paths, Luke is in danger.”

Aalto snorts. “On all of them. On some paths, he’s already dead.” His eyes widen and Rey doesn’t like the expression on his face—it’s the same one from the night she was shot, distant and longing. “On some paths you never meet, and there is a different teacher.”

She decides to ignore that, having a decent idea of who that other teacher might be. “What about on this path?”

“Still others to walk on. But…” He stares at her, silently. And his next words are so uncomfortably gentle. Almost kind. “Let me show you, how to trace the steps of the paths. Travel with me through them, and I’ll promise you will find the ones that you need when the time comes.”

“And you think I can learn how to do this in a night?” Rey asks skeptically.

Aalto raises a finger. “ _Here,_ a night. In the flow…” He makes that dry, puffed sound once more. “In the span of half an hour, you have traveled twenty-two years. Forward, backward. Imagine how many decades you can live, in between now and dawn?”

“If that’s the case, why not stay travelling?” Rey mutters, having seen his wish. Having seen his desire for being _more than._ “Keep training?”

He frowns. For the first time since he pointed a gun to her head, Rey sees a flash of anger in his eyes for her. But it passes. And he shakes his head. “I have limits.” His next words are a sigh. “You do not. On all paths, you are _limitless._ ”

She doesn’t like the sound of that, particularly. Instead she gives a small wince when her opposite hand starts to ache. Wherever Kylo Ren is now, she suspects he’s hitting things again.

Rey opens her mind to the Force once more, seeking guidance from it. She doesn’t feel anything beyond the walls of this crystal cavern, only her presence and Aalto’s less poisonous one. The ghosts of Dantooine are silent, watchful. But after a moment, she hears the voice from the room. The whisper is hard to understand, but she makes out a single word:

_Follow._

Rey takes a long exhale. And looks at Aalto. “Show me.”

\--

They walk.  
Aalto, she knows, only takes her on the paths he wants her to see. But she follows him.

She sees the caves as they used to be, the Jedi padawans battling with kinrath for precious crystals with which to build their lightsabers. She sees a figure, flanked by a man in red, who never turns enough for her to see their face. Sees a woman, bearing a wound far emptier and heavier than any Aalto has ever carried. Sees an Order fall, rise, and fall again.

After Rey feels like she’s seen enough of the past, she searches for Luke. She sees him as a prince, dressed head to toe in white and standing in front of a Senate. Sees him as an apprentice in black, staring up at the towering figure she knows to be Vader. Sees him as a child, sitting on the knee of a beautiful woman who tells him and his sister stories of Naboo. Sees him as a farmboy, staring out at two setting suns and feeling more alone than ever.

She follows the last one. Sees him as a pilot, as a Jedi, as a friend. Sees him hold his nephew, and start to build the Jedi-

 _Not yet._ Aalto interrupts, and the path shifts.

He brings her to a place with red sand. The wind howls, blowing up curtains of rust. The air is hot, but dry—like Jakku. Rey steps forward, her grey boots instantly covered in dust, and strains her vision.

There’s a valley. Framed on the sides by half-crumbled statues that start on the ground and reach all the way to the sky. She’s never seen anything like this, but somehow she already knows its name. Knows that once, this planet was called something else.

“Very good,” Aalto says, stepping into physical existence beside her. Rey shoots him a frown.

“Why are we here?”

“It’s where it ends.” He lightly grabs her wrist, lifts her arm with his own as he points to a spot on the distance. “See?”

Rey squints, and in the distance, deeper in the valley, she sees them.

A flash of silver light, moving so fast that its trail forms a dangerous half-circle around the person who wields it.  
An emerald beacon, raising and falling with the same control that the figure in white moves.  
And red, sputtering and consuming the air around it.  
  
She blinks. The emerald light goes out. The distant figure in white falls to the ground-

“No!” She cries, running forward-

Aalto’s hand holds her shoulder. “Only a path,” he mutters. “Just one.”

Rey pivots, anger filling her chest and the other two figures in the distance are forgotten. “Then stop it!”

“Not me,” he says. “ _You_.”

The journey ends.

\--

Rey stands up in the cave, absently noting the red stand still sticking to her boots. “We can’t let Luke die!”

Aalto stays seated. “It’s one path. You can find another.”

“ _How._ ”

“We’ll follow until it diverges.” He looks up, eyes completely colorless. “The current _is._ A splash is real, but the river stays the same.”

Rey bites the inside of her cheek.

Aalto exhales. “A trade, Jedi girl. For what I’ve just given you.”

Rey, sensing his intent, drops to a knee in front of him. With less hesitancy than before, she presses her fingers to his forehead and _pulls_ once again.

\--

When he regains consciousness, the air around him is clear. Rey watches him, and he pushes himself into a seat. Lovingly, he reaches for the purple crystal Rey has been staring at, lifting it from the rocks as easily as someone might take fruit from the vine.

“You’ll want to take this with you,” he says, offering the stone in his palm.

Rey eyes it warily, before she puts it into the salvage pack around her waist.

\--

They climb, and if Rey didn’t know any better, she would say the entrance was much closer than she remembered it being.

\--

They reach the air of the plains just as the suns start to rise. Everything is bathed in orange, and Rey thinks uncomfortably of the valley. She stares out at the endless expanse of grass, and feels more alone than ever.

 _Rey,_ she hears Luke calling for her. She casts out her senses, and finds him in the Enclave.

 _We’re coming,_ she promises.

\--

When they get to the entrance, Luke is waiting underneath what was once the winding tree. Without a word, she steps into his arm and he hugs her tightly.

“You’ve been gone a while,” he mumbles with an edge of confusion. Rey doesn’t doubt that he knows it’s been longer than a night.

“I’m back now,” she whispers.

Aalto stands away from them, hands folded across his chest, and head tilted in contemplation.

\--

They sit in what she now knows was once a classroom. Luke’s expression is troubled, as she relays what happened in the crystal cave between her and Kylo Ren. About how the bond has gotten worse, and that he now appears to her in a physical form. Aalto is silent, watching the conversation from his seat on an old bench.

“Hm,” Luke settles on after a few minutes of deliberation.

A genuine smile crosses her face at his ability to master the understatement. It fades when she remembers the figure in white falling to the ground. Rey rubs a hand over her opposite arm, feeling yet again that awful chill.

Luke’s smile is smaller and sadder. “It’s alright.”

She nods, but doesn’t feel it.

“Two days,” Aalto interjects quietly. “And the First Order will land-“ he points north, “-there.” The Knight of Ren turns to Luke. Her master frowns. “It will need to be somewhere _loud_ , if you don’t want him to find you.”

The ghosts of Dantooine whisper around her. And Rey steels herself.

“I know where we need to go,” she mutters, hoping this isn’t about to be a huge mistake. Luke and Aalto watch her, waiting.

She breathes.

“Moraband.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -"You've been here before, and you will be here again" is a nod to my beloved BSG, which has the phrase "All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again" as part of the [Sacred Scrolls](http://en.battlestarwiki.org/wiki/Sacred_Scrolls). I basically looped [Something Dark is Coming](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qr_79Jm62mo) while writing this chapter and it probably shows :P
> 
> -Aalto and Rey are doing a variation of [Flow-walking](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Flow-walking) in this chapter. It's doesn't work 100% the same as it does in the EU, but I've adapted it for my own Rule of Cool purposes. Aalto's quote about splashes and rivers is one Jacen Solo/Darth Caedus says in [Legacy of the Force: Invincible](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Legacy_of_the_Force:_Invincible)
> 
> -[The Valley of the Dark Lords](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Valley_of_the_Dark_Lords/Legends)
> 
> -[Moraband](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Moraband) was once called [Korriban](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Korriban) ;)


	13. Agony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for violence and SORROW (seriously, SORROW!!)-- this was a beastly chapter to write, hope you enjoy it!! special thanks to hannah/ignitesthestars for beta-ing the first half of this!
> 
> \--
> 
> notes: this chapter is all "Now," chapter 14 will be all "Before"/the conclusion of Jagomir ;o)

\--

 **Now**  
  
\--

  
There’s a heartbeat. Rey wakes up.

Her room aboard _The Millennium Falcon_ is mostly dim, illuminated only by the low, green light that comes from behind a poorly refurbished piece of wall paneling. The sheets are tangled around her body, and her head is resting on Kylo Ren’s chest.

“Don’t,” he commands, voice edged with sleep. His fingers are embedded in her undone hair, his other arm is wrapped around her waist. 

Rey tenses.

“Don’t move,” he says, softer.

She doesn’t. For now. Rey takes a small breath, taking stock of what’s happened. He’s come to her in his sleep once again—it’s the only explanation that makes sense. Sense, of course, being a looser term these days. She’s on her side, so is he, and her head is once again tucked under his chin. One of her legs rests in between his own, her arm slung loosely across his middle. Easy sorts of gestures that make her chest feel tight.

The hand he has in her hair shifts lightly. Small, feather like touches of his fingers threading through it—as if she’s not real, but something that could shatter apart if he misjudges the pressure.

Rey bites her lower lip. She thinks about the _other_ him, the one in the warehouse. No Force, no bond, no agenda. Just _Ben,_ if he might’ve been his father’s son.

“What is it?” He asks, as if there isn’t something obviously wrong about this.

Rey makes a light shift with her knee. Bends her elbow to draw her arm in closer to her body. She needs to run. She doesn’t want to move.

The hand at her waist flexes, as if he has an idea of what he would like to do but won’t execute it. His thumb instead begins to trace the ridge of her hip, the movement as light as the hand in her hair. He’s nervous, she realizes.

When she doesn’t say anything, the hand drifts from her hip to the small of her back, sliding cautiously underneath the thin fabric of her shirt. His palm is warm and pressed flat against her spine, an anchor holding her, him, and this moment together. Despite every instinct and thought telling her to pull away, she moves in closer.

“How long have you been here?” She whispers into his chest.

“Two hours.”

“Sleeping?”

“No.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “You need to go.”

The hand in her hair withdraws, moving to rest on her shoulder and neck. His fingers, like his palm, are warm against the skin her tank top exposes. After a second of hesitation, they trail to beneath her collar bone.

“You know this is how it’s supposed to be,” he states into the darkness, fingers pressed against the scar that nearly killed her.

“I don’t know anything,” she bites out. It’s a lie. Because she does know one thing. That whatever pull has been building between them since Jagomir, there’s still the emerald light gone out, still the figure in white who collapses against the red sands.

His heart is beating faster against her ear.

Rey takes a breath, and uses her arms to push herself up out of the embrace with a reluctance she wishes she could banish from her feelings. Kylo’s hands tense before they slide from her, pooling at her waist as she sits. She turns her head to look over her shoulder at him, only to see that Kylo’s eyes are dark on her as he sits up as well, back against the wall the head of her bed is pressed to.

They watch each other, and through their bond she senses the unspoken turmoil circling around them both. Her fear for Luke. His hatred of him. The fact that she wants to end the bond just as much as he wants to preserve it. Her friends. His enemies. So many things are pulling at them both and she doesn’t know where to draw the center.

After a moment of neither saying anything, Kylo lifts his hands to settle her waist. A question. He waits as she tries to puzzle out what it is she wants to answer. Logically, ethically she knows what she needs to do. Rey needs to banish his presence from the room and to break the bond as soon as possible. But she can’t say that this time, because she _knows,_ somehow, that Moraband is going to decide something neither of them will be able to recover from. That the next time they meet, in actual body instead of through the bond, one of them could very well kill the other. Or Luke. And she is unable to banish the small moments from her mind—the flashes of who Ben Organa was on Jagomir. The glimpse of who Ben Organa could have been in the future if _one_ _thing_ had been different. And Rey just wants to hold onto that lie, that fake possibility, if only for a few moments. If only for a little while, until whatever the Force has in store for them takes it away. She knows she once again needs to say goodbye.

Rey moves her hand to one of his, gently prying it away from her waist. She feels his disappointment, and the flare of self-loathing, before she slides her fingers into his as easily as a breath between ribs. His eyes widen, lips parting as she brings his hand to her chest, hoping she isn’t about to make a huge mistake as she presses a kiss to the inside of his palm.

Everything is still, tense.  But the confliction Rey feels between what she will have to do and what she wants apparently doesn’t exist within Kylo Ren. With his free hand, he pulls her until her back is flush against his chest, his legs framing her own. A moment passes, and he rests his chin on her shoulder. Another moment, and she feels his lips close around the skin of her neck. Like his hands, they are warm and slow, gauging where he can go. Her fingers curl where they rest on her thighs, as his hands on her hips keep her rooted and his mouth moves to press a kiss behind her ear. The side of her neck again. The place where her shoulder meets it. One of his hands shifts to splay across her stomach.

“Rey,” he mutters into her skin.

She swallows. Her head is spinning—what is, what could be, what will be. Rey hesitates for a moment, before she leans back into him. The bond isn’t helping, his thoughts, feelings, and wants circulating in the air. The hand holding hers doesn’t let go.

Rey turns, shifting her body away from him until they are face to face once more, her kneeling in between where his legs are sprawled out on her bed. The darkness in his eyes hasn’t abated, his jaw is clenched, and his anticipation and _hope_ thrum like a pulse between them.

 _I need you,_ he thinks quickly. The thought is something beyond his control, and Rey looks down so she doesn’t have to meet his eyes.

“Tell me,” he says instead, voice strained. “What it is that you want from me.”

“To leave me alone,” she lies.

He knows, and there’s a flash of frustration. “We’re past that, Rey. _Tell me what you want._ ”

She gives a slow shake of her head. Part of her wants to never see him again. Part of her wants the man in the warehouse with grease on his cheek. And another, quieter part of Rey is trying desperately not to want anything at all.

“To leave Luke alone,” she answers more honestly. Safely.

His lips press into a line.

“ _Please._ ”

His brows knot together. The hand holding her own tightens, just a little. It’s the grip of someone who does not want to be left.

“…and if I can’t do that.”

“Then leave me alone,” she says, this time meaning it. “Go back to the Unknown Regions, where I never have to see you again.”

“And the bond.”

“I’ll break it.”

He sits, and she feels him trying to make sense of this, trying not to set expectations too high even though that’s where he desperately wants them to be. One of his fingers curls under her chin, an echo of the gesture in the crystal cave. He tilts her face up. Rey’s not sure what it is that she sees in his expression—though there is an intensity to it, a feeling neither of them have been able to put into words even with their connection.

He leans forward, and when his lips brush against hers she lets them. When she doesn’t reject it, his hand moves from her chin back into her hair, pushing her closer. His lips are soft under her own, though insistent, and before she can think about what she’s doing her free hand is clenching into the front of his shirt.

The hand holding hers lets go in order to rest on her thigh, fingers pressing. His lips part and hers do the same, and when his hand moves down from her hair to the small of her back to guide her body forward she permits herself a moment of weakness and follows it until she is straddling his lap. The hand on her thigh slides upward, and when he pulls away for a breath she hears her name on his strained exhale.

This is needs to end.

Kylo kisses her again, harder this time knowing she isn’t going to reject the action. Rey closes her eyes and tries to save this moment of weakness—the feel of his full lips against hers, the thrumming of his heart underneath her hands.

“Let me find you,” his words are frantic, with an edge that wasn’t there before. His forehead rests against hers. His long fingers trail along the edge of her jaw and down her throat. “Tell me where you are, Rey.”

This needs to end _,_ and Rey brings her fingers to wrap lightly around his wrist. She feels her decision knitting itself into place, knows that this moment was one that was stolen and isn’t going to be more.

She doesn’t have to say anything, because the bond makes sure that he _sees._

“No,” he nearly growls.

The bond makes sure that he sees how she feels. And that he knows she doesn’t see a future for them, doesn’t see herself following him to the Dark. Doesn’t see herself _being_ with him in the way he wants. Not with the emerald green light going out. Not with Finn, Poe, and Leia and the phantom image of what could have been in her head.

“No-!”

Rey keeps her eyes closed and her hand drops to the bed.

“ _Rey_.”

When she opens her eyes, she is the only occupant in her room.

\--

They land on Moraband and Rey instantly feels sick. The air is so dry that it’s like she’s returned to Jakku, her lips chapping and mouth thirsty. It’s been a few hours since she’s sensed him in the bond, and Rey intuitively knows that Moraband will not let him find her—like Dantooine, the Force around this planet is too full of ghosts.

The tombs are a testament to that.

They’re monstrous, built from stone that might have once been painted but is now the same rust color as the sands that the wind blows across the surface. Towering, silent guardian statues frame the valley, reaching far above where they stand. Obelisks and ancient entrances line the sides, and Rey’s stomach twists itself into little knots as she sends Luke her fifth or sixth nervous glance.

His eyebrows raise, a mechanical hand holding the hood to his face as the wind blows kernels of dust. “The good side to this?”

Rey tilts her head.

He gives a small grin. “No one would be crazy enough to look for us here.”

She doesn’t know why that makes her stomach flip. The wind howls, the sun flares. Jagged mountains block the horizon. Even without the vision, Rey hates this place.

“Beautiful,” Aalto whispers, stepping to be beside her. “And all for us.”

She sends him a glare. “The dirt can keep it,” she mutters, taking a breath and moving forward.

As soon as her foot leaves the gangway, she knows that this is where Luke falls. Rey’s anxiety shoots up like a spike, and she turns back at him. Luke meets her gaze and a small frown forms between his brows. Her heart hammers in her chest, seeing him in white, in the red sands. Thinking that this could be where-

Aalto’s hand sinks onto her shoulder. “One path, Rey,” he reminds her in a hushed voice, his face contorted in a wince as the howls grows louder in the dead valley.

She shoots him a look, only to realize that her eyes have watered. With an angry motion, she scrubs them way from her face with the heel of her hand. Then she meets his stare, determination and a fierce, protective instinct filling her.

“What do I need to do.”

Aalto smiles, and lifts a finger to the horizon, to the distant, black cliffs. “Your destiny lies that way.”

“In the mountains?”

Aalto shakes his head. “There is an old academy, and…”

Rey frowns.

“A cave.”

She’s kriffing sick of caves. Rey adjusts the strap of her holster, leaning her head close to Aalto’s so Luke won’t be able to hear. “And what’s in the cave?”

The former Knight of Ren blinks, eyes going filmy and distant. “Someone for you to meet.”

She inhales. Her fingers drum on the leather strap of her lightsaber holster, and she absently clicks together her teeth. Looking up, she sets her shoulders. “Alright, let’s go.”

“No. Only you.”

“What?”

“ _Your_ destiny,” he asserts. “Not mine. Not Luke’s.”

Her eyes narrow in suspicion. “And I’m just supposed to leave you here, in a valley of dead _Sith,_ with Luke?”

He stares at her, placid. “It’s a way to alter the thread. Your choice.”

Rey frowns. Aalto only continues to look at her far too calmly.

“Luke doesn’t matter to me,” he says, and she senses that he’s telling the truth. “ _You_ matter.”

“And what if Luke comes with me?”

“The course stays the same.”

“And if I stay here?”

“The same.”

Rey bites on the inside of her cheek. She closes her eyes, trying to sense the flow as Aalto had trained her. She can’t quite manage it without entering meditation, but she feels enough to understand that there is an element of truth in his words—whatever this haunted, evil place has in store for her, it’s meant for her alone to find.

It’s a game of trust, she decides. Rey can trust Aalto and his visions. She can trust Luke to protect himself against a relatively weak Knight of Ren. She can trust herself to do whatever she needs to do to save her mentor and family.

“Do I come back if I go alone?”

“Yes,” Aalto murmurs. “Every time you return in victory.”

Again, she senses the truth in his words, in the Force, at that statement.

Rey’s hand slides from the strap of her lightsaber.

“If you hurt Luke,” she whispers, dark and angry. “I will kill you.”

“Sometimes,” he agrees in a whisper, hands folded behind his back.

\--

Any settlements that were on Moraband are long since gone, and so they make their room and board in the _Falcon._ Rey stands outside of Luke’s quarters, hand poised to knock. She can sense his presence on the other side, calm and steady and sad—the same as it’s always been. She’s dressed in her sleepwear, though she knows that she’s going to be changing out of it soon.

“Come in,” invites the distorted voice on the other side of the metal.

Rey breathes. And walks past the threshold.

Luke is in a simple shirt and pants, sitting on the edge of a workbench. In front of him, his hand is in pieces—cybernetics and gears spread on the desk.

“Sand gets it all plugged up,” he says with a small little smile, taking a rag and running it over the parts.

“Need a hand?” She asks, before cringing at the question.

Luke gives a short, airy chuckle. “Sure.” He slides to the end of the bench, patting the space beside him.

Rey sits, taking up another rag and starting to clean the pieces. She traces the edge of the cloth over a more delicate series of circuits, the lubricant on it picking up grains of sand jammed in the wiring. Luke does the same, the two of them falling into a comfortable and easy routine. In sync. Rey tries to figure out why something as simple as cleaning out a prosthetic is making her want to cry.

“Want to talk about it?” Luke finally asks, beginning to reassemble the components of his pinkie.

Rey’s fingers twitch, the cloth sliding out from a pinion. She does. More than anything. About the night before, or Aalto, or the flow. How she saw his body fall to the ground, what it did to her to see it. Rey hands him the pinion, he picks it up between delicate fingers and uses it to secure a rod in place.

“I don’t know if I should,” she settles on.

Luke gives a thoughtful hum, using a pair of small pliers to bend back part of his thumb. “Any reason why?”

“I’m afraid it will ruin the space-time continuum.”

He sends her a side glance. “That’s a big one.”

She nods, fingers absently toying with the rag in her hands. “…yeah.”

After a moment, he gives a low whistle and stands, getting off the bench and going somewhere else in the room. Rey keeps her gaze trained on the rag, and only turns when she hears the familiar, cool hiss of a top being twisted.

“Here,” Luke says, offering her a beer.

She takes it, the cold sweat of the bottle keeping her attention focused off of the pull in her mind and the anxiety settling in her lungs. Luke explains the parts of the cybernetic, one by one, and she hates that she’s only half able to listen to him because only part of her is sitting on the workbench with the closest thing she’s had to a father. The other part of her is _after,_ seeing the emerald light blink out of existence against the desert sands, picturing the red of a lightsaber flaring up above the figure in white-

“Luke,” she starts quietly as they begin to build together his wrist, “I have to go soon.”

“I know you do,” he replies gently.

She swallows, guilt and shame and _foolishness_ making water come to her eyes again. “I think…I think I might be making a mistake.”

Luke is quiet, fingers automatically adjusting a final component. His mechanical hand slides together, and with effortless movements he twists it back onto his wrist. After he flexes his fingers, he rests his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. She rests her cheek on his shoulder, eyes closing and water trickling down her cheeks.

“I’m proud of you,” he states, resting his head on top of hers. “And we all make mistakes.”

She inhales, trying to fight the sob building in her chest. “I don’t know if I can do what I need to.”

“With Ben?”

She squeezes her eyes closed. “Yes,” she finally confesses, just above a whisper.

A thoughtful noise vibrates from his chest, and he takes his time before speaking again. “It’s a difficult thing to love.”

Her stomach twists. "I don't-"

“Harder to love a person,” he continues. “Because it means you have to be willing to be vulnerable. For a Jedi, it means you have to be willing to let go, to understand when it’s necessary to forsake attachment.”

Rey stills her protest. Whatever it is between them, she doesn't think it is or could ever be love. But there is _something._ Something that would make him want to save her life. Again and again, even when it would be easier to let her die. “...how do you do it?”

Luke’s voice grows impossibly sad. “Truth be told, I was never that good at being a Jedi.” He inhales. “I couldn’t leave my sister and Han to be captured by Vader. I couldn’t give up the idea of my father. I fell in love, for a while after Endor. I grieve for my students, and sometimes I’m not able to feel anything but _anger_ over what happened to them.” His arm tightens around her. “I still love the boy my nephew was supposed to be, and I pity the man he’s become.” His shoulders slump. “And when they told me my last student was shot down, and couldn’t possibly be alive, I took my own X-Wing into a firefight without orders and wouldn’t leave until I found her.”

Rey swallows.

“I could’ve done it better, I guess. I could’ve been able to let go of my family, my former partner. Stayed in exile. Let go of the memories of my students. But not loving anything is a luxury, Rey. And it’s selfish. We can keep ourselves protected, with codes and rules and honor, or we can let ourselves be vulnerable. We can let ourselves miss those who are gone, and care for those who aren’t. We can be hurt. We can be compromised.”

“What should I do,” she whispers.

“I don’t know,” he says apologetically.

Rey waits.

“Some would have said it’s best to forsake love and attachment, to only be concerned with the Light.” Luke closes his eyes.

“What would you say?”

“I think I would say…what’s best isn’t always what’s brave.” 

His last words hang in the room around them, heavy but also, in their own way, comforting. Rey sags against him and tries to capture this moment in her mind—just her and someone she loves. Someone she would grieve, and miss, and feel anger over his loss.

“I’m going to come back,” she promises. “And I’m going to protect you.”

She feels Luke give a smile against the crown of her head, his words bittersweet. “I guess I do still owe you a trip to Nar Shaddaa.”

\--

A few hours later, her eyes are still red and she’s shoveling what she can into her pack. Portion powders, synthbars, bacta patches, water—she has no idea how long this will take, or what she can expect to encounter. Her hand settles last on the hilt of her lightsaber, and she stares at its patchwork of parts—Leia’s crystal, metal from Luke’s X-Wing. Finn’s power cell, BB-8’s spare lens. Even the holster is made piecemeal, with scraps of leather from Poe’s ruined old jacket.

She puts it in the holster, and slides it over her shoulder. Rey takes a breath, and looks around the room, eyes pointedly looking over the bed. The wall paneling is missing in the corner, there’s a couple of false tiles that hide smuggler’s cargo holds. Rey thinks about Han, grumbling about compressors and rolling his eyes and how even from the scaffolding, she could see that his last action was to hold his hand to his son’s face.

Once again, she wipes at her face with the heel of her hand. And Rey decides to trust in herself, if she can’t trust in anything else.

\--

Nights on Korriban are just as dry as days. The gangway drops with a hydraulic hiss, and Rey walks with slow, deliberate steps until her boots touch upon the rusted ground. She tries to center herself, to hear the calm in the Force and draw strength from it, but tonight is suspiciously silent.

Rey walks forward, toward the mountains Aalto directed her to. It’s not until she’s about two miles away from the _Falcon_ that she sees him, perched on the bottom of a ruined obelisk and staring up at the stars. She hesitates, but takes a few begrudging steps forward, until she stands directly behind where he sits.

“I’m leaving,” she states.

Aalto doesn’t turn to look at her, head craned back as far as it can go. She takes another step, so she’s to his side. His fingers are interlaced and locked around his knees, pale eyes closed. Rey keeps her gaze trained on him, frowning when he doesn’t move or speak.

Just when she’s about to go, he opens his eyes and looks directly at her.

“We’re always more than we are,” he warns in a hollow sort of voice.

“Sure,” she says with no small amount of annoyance.

He points up at the sky, his finger tracing what Rey assumes are constellations. “Jagomir. Nar Shaddaa. Onderon. Dantooine. Korriban,” his voice softens, “Takodana. Manaan. Naboo. Tatooine. Dagobah.” His hand drops. “Jakku. Yavin. You follow old steps, you leave trails for new ones.” In a fluid motion, he unfolds himself from his seat and stands, suddenly too close. Rey’s body tenses when he leans down, his breath warm on her face.

“You’ve changed things for me, Rey,” he says with wonder.

She takes a half step away. “I take it that means you’re feeling better.”

Aalto nods. “I know what piece in the puzzle I need to be. And I’ve seen what’s in store for you.”

“Really.”

“Great and terrible things,” he says with a smirk, lip twitching just a little.

He grabs her hand, turning it so its palm-up. His fingertips are light, almost ticklish, as they trace the lines on it. “Remember, Rey, I will never be the one that hurts you.”

She watches warily as he lifts her hand to his lips, kissing her palm and then her wrist before letting it drop between them.

“We’ll see each other soon enough,” he promises, before he turns and begins walking back to the _Falcon._

Rey watches him leave, the hand he kissed making a fist.

\--

Another mile, and she sees the path. It’s small, thin, and buried in between jagged, inky rocks. She never would have noticed it, if she hadn’t been told to look. Rey sighs, stretches her arms overhead, and begins to climb.

\--

Hours later, the sun is rising and colors the sky a blinding, dust-streaked tan only a few shades lighter than the earth. Her body aches, hands coated in black dirt and clothes streaked in rust-colored sand, but Rey keeps going. The sooner she finds whatever it is she’s supposed to find, meet whoever it is she’s supposed to meet, the sooner she can return to the _Falcon,_ home, and Luke.

She hikes for another hour, before she decides to stop on a narrow ledge in order to take a water break. The sun beats its tattoo onto her skin, and her fingers flex before wrapping her old scarf around her mouth and shoulders. The shriek of the wind echoes around her, but the cliffsides have done a good enough job of blocking out the worst of the breeze.

Legs absently kicking over the side of the ledge, Rey wipes her hand across her mouth and takes in the Valley. From here, it seems almost endless. She strains her gaze until she sees the small, grey dot of the _Falcon_ in the distance below her. Tentatively, she casts out her senses and tries to find Luke in the Force, to let him know she’s alright. But he’s blocked to her, as is Aalto. Like Dantooine, she thinks, but more malevolent. Vowing to make the trip faster, she braces her weight onto her arms and pushes herself up, hugging the ledge to make her way back to the path. The small pebbles by her feet rattle, and she glares down at them.

There’s the sound of something shifting underneath her feet. And Rey has just enough time to swear before the ledge collapses.

\--

She falls, hand stretching out as if someone could catch her. She thinks she feels the ghost of fingers, before something hits her head and it goes dark.

\--

The sound of leathery wings draws closer.

_Rey, wake up!_

Her head’s spinning, and with a cough she pushes herself up into a sitting position. For a moment, she thinks she’s hit her head too hard, but soon her eyes adjust and she realizes that she’s once again in a cave. If caves are starting to irritate her, collapsing into them is even higher on her list. Something flares in her Jedi perception, and Rey reaches for her lightsaber and thumbs the ignition-

Rows and rows of serrated teeth are illuminated silver.

Rey screams, drawing down with her saberstaff in a quick and vicious diagonal move.

There’s a _shriek_ of pain, the smell of charred flesh, and Rey backs away as soon as she as she feels something _thump_ onto her lap. Cringing, she brings the lightsaber up horizontally like a glowstick, and it illuminates the severed head of a shyrack.  The bat-like creature’s rheumy eyes are rolled up, as if they were looking at her. With a face of disgust, she kicks it off and moves into a stand.

The cavern is not like the one on Dantooine. There are no crystals to light the paths, and the edges are lined with jagged stalactites and stalagmites. Rey can hear the dripping of water in the distance, as well as the beating of more leathery wings, but there are no whispers here. No Force. Everything is deathly silent, and in the glow of her lightsaber she thinks she can make out the skeleton of a Twi’lek corpse. Then a human’s. Then more bones without any discernable shape to them.

Rey can hear a pulse in her ear. She looks up, and what seems like miles above her there’s a small circle of light. She stares at it, then the uncertain path before her. After a few moments, she evens out her breathing, and takes a small step over the headless body of the shyrack.

\--

It’s impossible to keep track of time in the caves. Rey manages to travel through it, avoiding the sound of wings and not risking a fire. Instead, she cracks a glowstick before bed, mixing water with the polystarch powder she hasn’t eaten in years—it’s still as bland as she remembers, but there’s something comforting about it as she sits alone in the darkness without any real idea of where she’s going.

\--

The next day, she wanders further. Around midday, she accidentally runs into a pack of roving Hssiss. She manages to cut them down, but one sinks a bite into her—right across the old, uneven and puckered scar on her thigh.

\--

That night, she lays on her bedroll and starts to wonder if it’s time to turn back.

\--

On the third day, she notices a literal light at the end of the tunnel. “Light” might be too generous of a word, but the endless pitch black finally gives way to something less impossible. Her eyes strained and tired from focusing on the illumination of her lightsaber, Rey sees an opening and walks toward it.

Once she gets close enough, the cramped stones that frame her give way to open air. Rey practically runs into it, her feet skidding to a stop right before the edge. She’s still underground, but the tunnels are now more like a cavern, with low lighting from a few holes many miles up in the ceiling. Smiling despite herself, she looks around and sees that the level she’s standing on draws itself into a stone bridge across a large, seemingly bottomless canyon.

A bridge. Rey’s hands grow clammy, and she wipes her palms on her ruined pants. It’s the first thing she’s seen in the cave that indicates life and intention, aside from the creatures that inhabit the tunnels. And the corpses.

On Moraband, there are no whispers, no guidance. But Rey walks toward it.

In the middle of the bridge, there is a boy. He’s curled into a ball, dark head of hair cradled in his hands as he sobs into his knees. A small figure in white in the endless stretch of black rocks. Knowing, yet not knowing, that this is a vision (it has to be), Rey moves until she is standing before him. She crouches down, resting a hand on his back.

“Hey,” she says in what she hopes is a soothing tone, “What’s wrong?”

The boy hiccups, not looking at her. “Hurts.”

“What hurts?”

The boy’s small, long fingers wrap around her wrist, and Rey’s eyes widen when there’s a quiet connection with the touch.

“Make it go away,” he asks, still not looking up, “ _Please._ Make it go away, Rey.”

“How do you know my-?”

The boy vanishes. There is nothing in his place but stone. Rey lets out an unsteady breath, standing once more.

When she looks up, there’s another entrance at the end of the bridge. One she knows wasn’t there before. It pulses with dark energy—purple, acidic fog seeming to hover near its entrance.

“Kriffing _caves_ ,” Rey mutters, withdrawing her lightsaber and moving forward.

\--

As soon as she crosses the threshold, she steps into a jungle. She thinks it’s the same as the one in the flow, and when she sees small figures—children—in the distance she thinks she’s right. Rey moves until they come into focus.

There’s five of them. One she recognizes immediately as a young Aalto, pale coloring immediately washed out by the beige color of his robes. Next to him is a little girl, her black hair in rows of tight braids. Small Aalto smiles when he sees her approach, waving her forward.

“C’mon!”

Thoroughly unnerved, she edges a little closer, eyes darting to the rest of them. Aside from Aalto and the girl with braids, there’s another girl covered in tattoos, maybe a few years older than the pair, a male Zabrak in his early teens, and…

A boy with dark hair cropped short and limbs too long for his body. He’s younger than all of them, but the others face him, waiting.

Rey blinks. The image shifts, and instead she sees different figures in the children’s place. They are tall, grown. Clad head to toe in black, heavy robes and staring at her from behind masks.

Where the boy was, Kylo Ren stands.

She watches, silent, as he extends his hand toward her in offering-  
-and he’s gone. The jungle fades.

Her thumb shakes as she lifts it from the ignition switch of her lightsaber. Rey turns around, only to see that the entrance to the cave is gone, solid rock in its place.

Shaken, and unsure of what else to do, Rey can only continue forward.

\--

The next room is a temple. No. An archive. Rey looks around, mentally picturing this room as an overlay for the archive on Dantooine—the statues gilded, the broken shelves fixed and full. It’s the Enclave, before the Enclave ever fell.

A woman kneels in the center of it, meditating. When Rey approaches, her eyes open and she smiles in amusement.

“I was expecting you.”

Rey’s breath hitches when she recognizes the voice. It belongs to that old, empty room. It belongs to one of the whispers on Dantooine.

“Who are you?” 

The woman’s smile fades. “Someone long forgotten.”

“Why are you here?”

“Because stories have a habit of repeating themselves.” The woman stands, hands folded behind her back. “And our stories, Rey, might become the same.”

“Might.”

The woman nods, her eyes flickering yellow, then back to their usual color. “Great and terrible things. Saviors. Conquerors. Heroes. Villains. The pain of being neither, the pain of being alone _._ ”

“I’m not alone,” Rey bites out, “Not anymore.”

The vision tilts her head. “As you say. But to know love is to know loss. And you, Rey, have not yet lost anyone.”

 _Han_ she thinks immediately, but the woman shakes her head.

“There are losses that wound you, and there are losses that _break you._ They are different, and soon you will know that difference very well.”

Rey’s mouth goes dry. She sees the emerald light going out, the red lightsaber poised to strike-

“-yes,” the woman whispers sympathetically. “Do not forget the whispers, Rey. You walk a path of great power, but with it comes death. There is no saving yourself from that.”

Her chest feels tight. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know what it means to travel your journey. I am a memory. I am a warning,” the woman begins to walk away, fading with every step. “And _my_ crystal shares a home with the one you keep in your pack.”

Rey’s hands are a flurry of movement as she opens it, removing the violet, glowing stone. When she looks up, the woman is gone and Aalto is in her place.

“One more to go,” he says tenderly, and behind him a door forms.

Rey scowls, “Who was that?”

The spectre of the Knight smiles. “Old steps.”

Rey shoves him, tired of riddles and omens and Luke’s death hanging over her head like a sword. “Tell me what you want!”

He staggers back, a hand absently hovering over his chest. “I want everything for you.”

“ _Why._ ”

He smiles with bloodstained teeth, the hand on his chest lifting and covered in red. The smell of charred flesh fills the air. “Because I love you, Rey. I love you more than anyone in the entire universe. You are and were what is important to me. You are the death of all of us.”

He laughs at the expression of revulsion that crosses her face, and his form fades away until there is only the door. Wanting this to end, Rey grimaces and pushes it open with both hands.

\--

Inside is a bridge of a ship. Empty save for two figures who stand with their backs to her, facing a viewport. Power emanates from both of them, unrestrained and limitless. Rey looks around with nervous eyes, seeing the empty station chairs that line the narrow walkway. The taller of the figures, who she instantly recognizes as Kylo even if his back is to her, has an arm around the waist of the other—a woman with an athletic build, dressed in black form-fitting robes and a hood drawn over her head. Something stings with that, though Rey does her best to surge past it as she walks.

Kylo turns.

“Tell me how to get out of here-!” Rey demands, but it falls short when the woman by his side turns as well. She pulls back her hood.

The woman has brown hair, undone and falling over her shoulders. Light skin with a smattering of freckles over the nose. Eyes that glow yellow, though Rey knows they should be hazel.

Aalto’s words ring in her head.

_Sometimes, you go to him._

Rey’s entire body seems to go slack, as she looks into the face of her doppelganger.

“Rey,” the woman who is not her greets, taking a step toward her. The man who is not Kylo stays close behind. “We’ve been waiting.”

“This isn’t possible,” she blurts, eyes darting to herself, to Kylo, and feeling very cold _._

“Search your feelings,” Kylo says quietly, wrapping his arms around the woman who is _not her_ and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“It can be true,” the woman agrees, bringing her hands to rest lightly on his arms.

Rey closes her eyes, tries to banish what she’s seeing from her mind.

“Part of you wants this,” the woman chides. “Part of you wonders what it would be like, to give up. To embrace it.”

“No,” she protests.

“More power than you’ve ever had before, no _limits._ ” The woman’s hand rests against Rey’s cheek. “No more going hungry, no more nights denying-“

“Stop it.”

“-what you feel. What you want.”

“You don’t know what I want,” Rey mutters, an edge in her tone.

“You could be _the Master of Ren,_ ” the woman hisses. “You could stop being alone-“

“-Protected,” the man who is not Kylo finishes. “Safe. Together.”

The woman’s touch fades from her skin. Instead a man’s hand, warm and ungloved, replaces it.

“Rey,” he says, and she hates herself for opening her eyes.

The woman is gone, so is Kylo. In their place is Ben Organa. He is as she saw in her vision. Goggles pushed up into his hair. Sleeves rolled to his elbow. Grease on his cheek.

“We could have this,” he promises.

The hand on her cheek slides into her hair in a gesture that is so familiar and real she wants to be sick. He lowers his face, until his mouth is brushing hers in a light kiss.

“Liar,” Rey whispers sadly against his lips.

There’s the electric hiss of a lightsaber, and Ben Organa sinks to his knees, a silver blade extending from between his shoulders. He flickers, and Kylo Ren is in his place. Rey bites back tears as she disengages her blade. The masked figure, who is _not him,_ slumps to the ground and vanishes.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” comes her own voice. From thin air, the woman materializes again. There’s a double-bladed red lightsaber in her hand.

Rey ignites her own, and in quick circles of silver, she moves. The woman matches her advances perfectly, a parry for every strike. A counter for every advantage. After ten minutes, Rey grits her teeth, rears back her fist, and slams it across the apparition’s nose.

The woman staggers back, and Rey swings her lightsaber across her midsection.

“You,” she says crossly as the figure fades, “are not me.”

The woman smirks, eyes flashing yellow. “Not yet.”

The ship falls away, and Rey is left standing by herself in the unnatural stillness of the cave.

Across the room, there is an exit. The light filtering through.

Rey holds herself together, and stumbles into it.

\--

She finds herself just outside the valley, the wind howling and dust coating her. The sun is too bright for her after days spent underground, and she slams her eyes shut until they adjust. Her body aches, her mind is exhausted, and all she wants to do is curl up with a cocoa and a blanket and watch reruns of _Nebulae Crossing_.

But the thought is banished when she feels a familiar _pull._ It’s the same one she felt on Nar Shaddaa.

“No,” Rey whispers, adrenaline flooding her system and the aches disappearing.

She breaks into a run, following the invisible connection as it leads her down the winding path, sprinting over rocks and dust and her breathing coming in frantic gasps as she descends.

 _Luke?_ She calls out. _Luke!_

She trips over her own feet, the rocks tearing at her leg, but that doesn’t matter. She picks herself up and keeps moving as fast as she can.

_LUKE_

In the distance, she sees the black form of a familiar shuttle behind the _Falcon._ The sharp stab of a cramp hits her side, but she pushes through it. Tears spring to her eyes as she makes her way past the ruined statues, the shattered obelisks. Rey runs until she feels like her lungs are going to collapse.

_LUKE!_

She rounds a corner.  
Stops breathing.

Before her is a figure on the ground, clad in white. A disengaged lightsaber rolled away from his lifeless grip.

Rey collapses to her knees.

With horrified resolve, she looks past the body of Luke Skywalker and sees Kylo Ren further in the distance, pointing his red blade at Aalto’s throat.

The cry of pain erupts from her before she can stop it.

_No!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Rey is journeying through the [Shyrack cave](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Shyrack_cave) that Jedi Exile once made her way through
> 
> -[Shyrack](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Shyrack)
> 
> -[Hssiss](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Hssiss)
> 
> -Dark!Rey was based on [this piece of TFA concept art!](http://40.media.tumblr.com/250c4b114c2e138ece704bdd840ab3ea/tumblr_ngjfo1C4AJ1sgqpvfo4_1280.jpg)


	14. Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double update (maybe even triple, maybe even _quadruple_ ) weekend!! Enjoy the last of the Jagomir bits ;) one more chapter & the epilogue to go!

\--  
_Before.  
_ \--

_Her fingers slip and the magwrench in her hand cuts a sharp, red line down the side of her thumb._

_“Kriff,” she mutters, bringing her hand to her mouth. She’s distracted. It’s worse that she realizes it, and there’s nothing she’s been able to do to stop it._

_Kylo stands to the side, his arms crossed over his chest as he watches her take the remaining parts from the auxiliary. There’s a puckered “v” between his brows that hasn’t gone away._

_“You’re taking longer than usual,” he comments dryly._

_“I am not.” She is._

_“You’ve cut your hand twice now.”_

_“It’s old equipment.”_

_Kylo moves, starting to pace up and down the length of the Rebellion hanger. “You’re worried about what happens when the shuttle’s fixed.”_

_Rey decides she doesn’t like the victorious element to his tone. As if he’s unearthed some deep-seeded secret of hers. “Of course I am.” Deciding to kark it with delicacy, she grips one of the panels and_ rips _it clean from the base. “You might leave me for dead.”_

_“That’s no longer a concern.” His footfalls are starting to grate her. “You could patch together something from this base.”_

_She refuses to feel flattery over his inadvertent compliment. Instead, she tears out another chunk of cargo hauler._

_“Well, if you’re such an expert-“ Another tear, “-why don’t you enlighten me as to why I don’t want my enemy to have access to a functioning shuttlecraft.”_

_His pacing halts. “You still consider me your enemy.”_

_She closes her eyes, takes a breath. Pulls at another piece of telemetry system. “Why wouldn’t I.”_

_She’s not entirely sure if she actually wants him to give her a reason._

_Kylo falls silent, but she feels_ that _stare on her. “You haven’t attempted to kill me yet.”_

_Rey snorts. “You-“ she slams a panel shut, “-need a better set of criteria for making friends.”_

_\--_

_He spends another hour watching her struggle with something that should be routine. When she’s about to finalize the extraction, wondering how she’s going to manage the removal of the heavy, more delicate fixtures, he crouches beside her._

_“Tell me what to do,” he mutters, proximity uncomfortably close to hers._

_Rey sends him a low look. He gazes back at her._

_“…it’s fragile,” she starts, a warning in her tone, “Drop it and it’s ruined.” Her eyes narrow. “Do_ exactly _as I tell you.”_

_He nods._

_Rey takes a breath, and together they remove the installation seamlessly._

_\--_

_As they leave the base, she only takes one look back at it—the comm systems overrun by swamp moss, the collapsed door they removed. There’s something that’s vaguely sad about it, an old haven left to rot._

_Kylo, she notices, stares at it for far longer than she does, and Rey wonders what it is that he sees in the old compound._

_\--_

_It’s a long walk back to where they crash landed. Rey expects to spend most of it in silence, but once again Kylo feels the need to_ talk _about things._

 _“Your plan is to go back to the_ Resistance, _I assume.” Resistance said in the same, disdainful way one might say “pond scum.”_

_“No, I was thinking of going to Mon Calamari. Take a vacation. Lay on the beach”_

_His eyes slide to her. She looks up with a scoff._

_“_ Yes, _I’m returning to the Resistance.” She draws her hand across her forehead, wiping away some new sweat that has beaded on her brow._

_“With the datapad.”_

_Her boots slow for an instant, and Rey fights hard to recover. “Datapad?”_

_“With the intel from my shuttle. I haven’t forgotten.” His words are low and measured, his gaze having not left her face since she mentioned going to the beach._

_Rey, instead of answering, only juts her chin and walks with a little more determination in her step. “It’s gone.”_

_“Liar.”_

_“Well, I’m not giving it back.”_

_“That’s your nature, isn’t it?”_

_Rey shoots him a dark look. His face is already twisted into an expression she doesn’t like. Around him, she can perceive his emotions almost as well as her own—he’s upset, hurt. She’s not sure why._

_“Taking things that don’t belong to you.” He shifts until he’s closer to her side. “Taking away_ parts. _And leaving without a look back.”_

_Rey takes a half step away. “Anything I’ve ever taken from you wasn’t yours to begin with,” she says sternly._

_“You’re wrong.”_

_“Not as often as you.”_

_She decides to stand her ground, even as he gets close enough for their noses to nearly brush. She’s reminded of his reaction to her destroying his lightsaber, of ruining something he had come to care for in his strange way._

_“I want to hate you,” he breathes._

_“Then do it.”_

_Somewhere in the distance, there’s a rustle in the weeds._

_His mouth twitches, an intense look in his eyes that reminds her of their first duel._

_Her brows furrow. “Or maybe you don’t get whatever you want. Either way, I don’t control how you feel.”_

_His hand splays against the side of her neck, his grip hot but too lax for someone who is supposedly trying to hate her. He swallows. “You…”_

_Rey stares at him, defiant. “Me.”_

_The rustle in the weed grows louder, there’s the sound of a loud, echoing snort._

_Kylo’s chest rises and falls. Rey waits for him to make up whatever is in his mind. The hand on her neck moves to the back of her head, fingers gently bunching in her hair._

_“You know we’re not that simple,” he manages, words strained as he leans forward. His mouth hovers just a little ways apart from her own. “That we’re-“_

_A keen breaks through the open area they’ve found themselves in. Rey and Kylo’s heads snap in unison toward it._

_“What…is that,” Rey whispers, trying not to panic._

_“Zakkeg.” Kylo clenches his jaw. “This conversation isn’t over.”_

_She steps away from him and takes in the monster that has charged its way into the clearing. With a slow motion, she removes her pack with the telemetry equipment and sets it gently aside. “Whatever you say.”_

_Rey’s never seen anything like this thing before. For one, it’s huge, easily three feet taller than Kylo on all its fours. The beast looks like an oversized, red lizard. Built like a battle tank, with spikey scales covering its hide like plating._

_Hesitantly, her hand goes to her lightsaber._

_“Not yet,” Kylo commands, raising up his arm._

_The Zakkeg gives an angry, wet huff before it_ stalks _toward them. Rey’s fingers drum on her hilt._

_“Kylo…”_

_“Not. Yet.” His face is transformed into a scowl. His fingers flex with visible strain and curl into a claw._

_The Zakkeg rears back its head, letting out a guttural cry that lets them both see the rows of serrated teeth. And what looks suspiciously like bits of a cannok in between them. It drops its head down, the spikes that adorn its skull suddenly looking like a battering ram. It paws at the ground before it huffs again, charging toward them with an angry bellow-_

_“For Force’s sake!” Rey thumbs her ignition, two flares of silver emerging as she swings an end down-_

_-the Zakkeg_ screams _as her blade slices off one of its horns._

_Kylo lets out an indescribable swear, likely directed at her, before he leaps away just in time to avoid the angry swing of the Zakkeg’s opposite horn. It grazes his arm, digging a groove, and Rey feels a light sympathy pain in her own bicep._

_“Oy!” She screams at the monster as it attempts to advance on Kylo again, swinging her lightsaber in a full circle. The Zakkeg screams again, running at her._

_“Rey!”_

_She ignores him, using the Force to leap onto the thing’s back. It instantly begins to buck, trying to launch her off of it. With all of her strength, she swings her lightsaber overhead and plunges the blade into what she assumes is its spine._

_The stench of burned flesh fills the air, and the creature screams in pain. It bucks forward even harder, and Rey loses her grip on the lightsaber._

_“REY!”_

_And is thrown through the air. She lands with a hard movement on her back, the air leaving her lungs. Rey coughs, struggling to pull herself up as the Zakkeg begins to charge toward her._

_She raises a shaking arm in a pathetic attempt to Force shove it away, but the wound she gave it has made it go into an adrenaline-induced rage. The Zakkeg lowers its head, single front horn aimed at her._

_She steels herself for impact just as she sees something metallic glint through the air. Rey grits her teeth and tries to_ shove _-_

_There’s the sound of an electric hiss, and Rey’s eyes widen as a circular, silver blur descends on the lizard’s neck. The Zakkeg gives another cry before its head drops forward, neck partially severed. Its body flops on its side and slides with its now unused momentum, until it stops just a foot or so away from her._

_Rey looks up. Kylo stands in front of her, her lightsaber glowing in his hand. His profile cast in silvers, Rey’s eyes widen as she stares at her weapon, the one formed from the people she cares about, in his grip. Kylo, too, seems shaken by what has just occurred. With a hesitant motion, he disengages the blades._

_“…I told you to wait.”_

_Rey glares, pushing herself up from the ground with a wince. “It would’ve run us over.”_

_“So you decided to ride it.”_

_Rey stands. “It almost worked.”_

_Kylo’s eyes are trailing over her, and with a shocked realization she thinks it's because he is checking her for injuries. “Almost. If this were a rodeo.”_

_Her brows raise._

_His gaze settles back on her face._

_Rey swallows, suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m fine,” she answers in response to his unasked question._

_They stare at each other for another moment. Rey squares her shoulders and extends her hand. Kylo watches it for a moment, before he steps forward and places her lightsaber in her palm, fingers resting over her own._

_“The balance is off,” is all he mutters._

_“That’s because it doesn’t need exhausts.”_

_She moves her hand, and his fingers drop from hers with a reluctant slowness._

_\--_

_When they get back to the shuttle, it’s too dark to do repairs. Or so she says._

_\--_

_It’s their last night on Jagomir, Rey senses it clearly in the Force. Her body is exhausted from being launched by a swamp beast, and so she decides to attempt sleep instead of a more customary Jedi trance. The floor of the shuttle is cold and uncomfortable, but she’s slept better on worse. Her hands fold across her stomach and she looks up at the ceiling._

_She’s going to go home, she promises to herself. Back to Luke, who has to be worried by now. To Finn, who she misses just as much as she misses Luke. And Leia. And Poe. And Chewbacca. And BB-8. It’s been almost twenty two standard days on Jagomir, and she’s ready to be back in her quarters on D’Qar, watering her plants and meditating with Luke and heading to the cantina with  her friends to watch Finn ruin karaoke._

_Back to her life. Back to her family._

_So why does she feel…_

_It’s not regret, or sorrow. But it feels a little like a chapter closing, of something that changed slowly going back to the way it was before. Rey closes her eyes, and tries to let her mind drift._

_It works, for a while. She thinks about the components of A-Wing fighters, makes a specs list of BB astromechs. Thinks about how_ no _her lightsaber is_ perfectly _balanced. She’s mentally running through a diagnostic of power cells and emitters when she hears his footsteps cross the shuttle. They stop when they reach her side._

_Rey opens her eyes._

_Kylo kneels beside her. And his expression is soft, an image of the night before when he told her about his mother, and tutors, and learning to read. In his hands is a blanket._

_Rey looks up at him, at the man who might’ve been Ben Organa. The man she’s going to leave behind tomorrow, who has killed so many people and hurt so many of her friends. Who has not been listened to since he was a boy alone, and who stretched out his hand in the dark for someone to hold it._

_Rey clears her throat, and slides over. He takes her silent offering, lowering himself to the floor to lay beside her. She’s a little unnerved when, after he spreads the blanket over them, his first action is to fold his hands over his stomach in a mimic of her earlier pose._

_“How’s your arm?” She manages, after she gets used to the idea of him being beside her. Sharing her space in a way that doesn’t feel hostile for once._

_“Gored,” he states dryly._

_They both stare at the ceiling. It’s almost like stargazing, although there are no lights to look at. After a moment, he shifts so that his un-gored arm lays behind her neck, and she rests her head on it._

_Neither of them say anything, and like that they fall asleep._

_\--_

_The next morning, she wakes up to her head tucked underneath his chin and his arms around her. She sits up, and doesn’t know what to do with the look on his face._

_“…I’ll start the repairs.”_

_Body suddenly going tense, he nods._

_\--_

_About midday, it starts to rain again. Rey’s been outside by herself for the last few hours, hands weaving together the last of the wiring as she sits perched on the part of the shuttle’s roof that isn’t submerged in the bog. Kylo’s been keeping to himself inside._

_An hour after the rain starts, she finishes, soaked to the bone and her hair plastered to the skin of her neck. And she knows what comes next, and isn’t sure if she’s going to like it._

_\--_

_When she walks back into the shuttle, Kylo Ren is sitting where they slept, hands resting on his knees and eyes closed._

_Rey clears her throat, and his eyes open to rest heavily on her._

_“I’m going to need your help.”_

_\--_

_They stand side-by-side, dressed in ruined clothes and exhaustion evident on every inch of them. It’s been almost a month in this uninhabited swamp, and Rey looks at the submerged shuttle with a strange sort of nostalgia._

_“Ready?” She asks._

_Still silent, he nods._

_The rain peppers little divots onto the bogwater, and Rey closes her eyes. She lets herself open up to Kylo through the Force in a way she hasn’t before, clear and calm. A balance to the chaos he has perpetually roiling inside of him. He meets her mind, forging the link that will help them unite their strength. It’s like the brush of fingers against her presence in the Force, and Rey doesn’t hesitate as she latches onto them._

_With synchronized movement, Rey and Kylo each extend a hand._

_The shuttle stays stagnant for a moment. But then there’s a shake, a slight shifting. The rain continues to fall, but soon it’s sliding off of the shuttle’s wings. Its engines. There’s a heavy, sloshing noise as the mud and water let go of their grips on the submerged craft, and Rey doesn’t feel the weight of it at all._

_She opens her eyes._

_Kylo Ren’s shuttle hovers above them both._

_She exhales, sending him a glance. He agrees through the Force, and they shift their arms, telekinetically moving the shuttle above them until it levitates slowly down to the dryer ground. It shakes, sinks, and settles—full and intact._

_Rey drops her arm and lets out a startled laugh. “That actually worked!”_

_He drops his arm a second later. “Of course it did.”_

_She turns, and before she thinks about it, wraps her arms around his shoulders in a celebratory hug. “I’ve never-“ She cuts herself off with another exhausted, relieved laugh._

_He’s stiff against her, unsure of what to do. Eventually, his hand slides between her shoulder blades._

_“Thank you,” she says sincerely into his neck._

_The hand on her back pushes her closer. And the two of them stand there for a long time, getting soaked in the rain._

_\--_

_“Take the shuttle,” he says between gritted teeth._

_She pauses in her step, her hand pausing from where it’s running a final diagnostic. “What?”_

_Kylo Ren’s jaw clenches. “The shuttle. Take it.”_

_Her hand falls from where it rested on an ionized engine. “That was the idea, yeah?”_

_Kylo glares. And Rey’s eyes widen with understanding._

_“Without you, you mean.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“…why?”_

_He scowls at the ground. “I don’t know.”_

_Rey takes a step forward. “Were you planning to become a swamp hermit?”_

_Kylo swallows. “I’m going to trust you to contact the First Order and let them know where I am. In exchange for the datapad.”_

_Rey can’t believe what she’s hearing. “You’re going to let me…” She shakes her head. “We could leave together, you know.”_

_The look he sends her does something to her chest. “I would hail the First Order the moment we reached atmosphere.” His lip twitches deeper into a frown. “I don’t trust myself not to.”_

_Rey stands there, uncertain of what to do with the proposition. She senses his intent in the Force, and know that it’s not done with ulterior motive. He’s going to let her escape, for as much as she’s able to in the stolen shuttle of a Knight of Ren._

_"You could come back with me," she offers._

_Kylo's lip curls. "No."_

_“...where will you sleep?” It’s a ridiculous question, but it’s the first one that comes to mind._

_“I’ll return to the base.”_

_Rey exhales, wondering why this is making her stomach twist. She tries to think of a better option, but as the silence stretches she feels like this is the only decision to make.“The datapad’s hidden in one of the panels of the S-foils.”_

_He nods._

_She steps forward, frowning. “Why are you doing this?”_

_“You know why,” he manages. One of his hands comes to rest on the side of her neck again, repeating the motion from earlier._

_“Whatever this is, it's over once I leave. We’re going to go back to being enemies. I am not going to stop fighting. You, or the First Order.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“And I don’t even know if I like you,” she says in a slightly hitched voice, “You know. As a person.”_

_His fingers move into her hair. He steps forward. “Alright.”_

_She closes her eyes, not sure what to do with whatever it is that’s happening. Or how to define it. It just_ is, _right now, and she rests her hand on his arm, underneath the goring._

_“…I’ll find a way to contact the First Order,” she promises. A trade for a trade, and she doesn’t know if she feels wrong for it yet._

_He leans down. “I know.”_

_His lips press against hers in a quiet movement._

_\--_

_An hour later, she flies away. And Rey doesn’t see him watching as the engine lights of the shuttle become pinpricks in the sky._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- [Zakkeg](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Zakkeg/Legends)


	15. Accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earning my "KOTOR vibes" tag this update. Thank you to hannah/ignitesthestars for being my beta/sounding board, & thank you to everyone for sticking with me, short epilogue to follow!

_\--_  
Before: Five months later  
\--

 _It’s getting worse. Rey sits in between Poe and Finn and presses two fingers to her temples. The cantina is alive around them, brilliant lights and loud music from the karaoke stage filling her ears. Life feels_ normal _as much as it can, but for the pulse in the back of her head._

_Finn notices, giving her a playful nudge on the shoulder. “You okay?”_

_She closes her eyes. There’s been a string of encrypted messages sent to her console, all unread. Five months ago she left a shuttle docked on Coruscant and hailed the First Order to rescue the Resistance’s number one enemy. And, right now, she can feel so many emotions that aren’t her own. Frustration. Hope. Longing. Anger. They’re all tangled up in each other, and she doesn’t know what to do. One moment, she’s laughing with her friends at the cantina, the next she’s feeling physical pain that doesn’t belong to her in her chest and on her sides. For the first month, she thought she was going mad. But meditation stalled it. And eventually, she began to differentiate between what was_ her _and what wasn’t._

_“I’m fine,” she says with a gentle smile._

_Except Kylo Ren is somehow living in her head._

_\--_

_“How are you doing, Rey?” Luke’s voice is kind, but worried, and Rey hates that she’s the cause of it._

_“A little tired,” she answers non-committedly, stretching her arms above her head as they prepare for their daily training._

_Luke sends her a careful look as he rolls up the sleeves of his robes. “Rey.”_

_She looks away. Reaches down to touch her toes._

_A few moments pass in silence, before Luke tries again. “You haven’t been flying for a while.”_

_Rey bites her lip. “No, I guess not.” Five months without going into rotation, to be precise._

_“Any particular reason?”_

_Her mind drifts to a pyre. “Not really.”_

_Luke, though, is as perceptive as ever. “You were on Jagomir for a long time.”_

_She stretches one of her arms across her torso. “I’m okay, Luke,” she says as honestly as she can. And most days, she_ is. _The days she doesn’t have to feel another person’s emotions whirling around in her mind._

_“We’re worried.”_

_Guilt strikes her chest. She didn’t do anything wrong: Resistance intel wasn’t compromised, she didn’t hurt anyone but the enemy. All she did was leave a draw, and for some reason that feels like betrayal._

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“Don’t be sorry, Rey.” Luke gives her a pat on the shoulder before jogging ahead. “We only want to help you.”_

_\--_

_A week passes. At Luke’s patient insistence, Rey decides to start running drills with Blue Squadron again._

_A section of their division specializes in recon missions. Not fireflights. Rey starts training with Snap Wexley on how to record intel from her fighter. Scouting missions, meant only to help keep the Resistance safe. It feels good, and when Wexley asks if she wants to be part of a larger recon op next week, flying with Blue Squadron for cover, she agrees._

_\--_

_The op starts out easily enough. Wexley debriefs those who are flying recon with the pilots flying guard, and the mission is simple enough. Fly cover to where there are rumors of mining facilities run by the First Order. Snap some holos. Return for them to be analyzed by Intelligence._

_It feels_ right, _getting back into the cockpit of a T-65 X-Wing. Her hands move with muscle memory, easy and quick as she does her own prep work and runs diagnostics._

_“Get some good glamor shots for us, Blue 8,” Snap says with a smile, patting her on the top of the helmet._

_Rey grins, giving him a thumb’s up. With Snap, or the others in Blue Squadron, she’s never the Jedi girl first. An R4 astromech named R4-G9 is loaded, and before she knows it, her fighter is taking to the air._

_\--_

_The First Order was waiting for them. Rey doesn’t know how they were tipped off, but somehow a leak got through and where there was supposed to be a light guard, there is instead close to an entire fleet. Rey’s mouth goes dry as her hyperdrive plots her right in the middle._

_“Shit, JUMP BACK JUMP BACK-!” Screams Blue Two, a taciturn Bothan who Rey knows likes sweets and has a miserable singing voice._

_“BLUES, DROP BACK-!” The comm goes out._

_Rey breathes, staring with wide eyes as a row of Imperial TIE fighters warm-up their ionized cannons._

_“R4…” She mutters, fingers beginning to skim across the controls with her customary economy of movement, “Get ready to run.”_

_Rey pulls the fighter up with a harsh movement, just as green shots fire past her. For a while, she dances, controlling her fighter and pulling into the spins and reckless maneuvers that earned her a spot in the Resistance fleet without any academy training._

_R4 squeals, as Rey fires out a proton torpedo and it grazes the wing of a TIE, causing it to spiral down to the planet’s surface without igniting._

_“Try and lose it!” Rey demands, reading her scans to determine who it is on this field that’s locked onto her signature._

_She pales when she recognizes a very familiar serial number._

_“Kark,” she whispers slowly to herself. Her heart beats in her chest as she casts her senses out. It takes a moment, but she feels his presence in the Force._

_A shot clips her S-Foil, and Rey is rocked violently back and forth as R4 screams._

_“Sorry R4!” She cries, sparks flying up from her console. Rey swears, pulling on her yoke to drop her ship down, hopefully too quick for the TIEs to catch up. The chatter on her comm is going dim, as her squadronmates focus on the firefight they’ve fallen into. “Keep it together,” she whispers to herself, veering sharply to the port side._

_Two of the TIEs chasing her collide into each other. Rey winces, as a stirring of grief hits her, but she forges on ahead—right now is about survival, not ethics._

_“How’s the hyperdrive, R4?”_

_The astromech chirps._ Not ready.

_Rey takes a breath, and charges forward. For the two TIEs she’s just gotten rid of, four more appear on her tail._

_And an Upsilon-class command shuttle._

_She hopes he’s chasing because he doesn’t realize it’s her. But there’s no way to be certain. Rey mouths a silent string of_ please _as she barrel-rolls the fighter. Four of the shots aimed at her miss, one hits her opposite S-Foil._

_“BLUE EIGHT!” Someone yells, but Rey can’t tell who it is as her body flies forward, only saved from being jettisoned by her safety webbing. Another shower of sparks flies up, burning her neck and exposed parts of her face-_

_In the bond, he feels the pain of it. And she senses his shock, his fear at what that might mean-_

_Shutting him out, she flips the X-Wing over, charging straight ahead for an empty pocket of space. Her cockpit smells like fuel, her controls are blaring at her with red lights. She needs to leave, and_ soon.

_The next shot comes from the shuttle. In her mind, there’s a scream that doesn’t belong to her, though she can’t make out the words._

_Rey cries out as she’s once again violently rocked, her head slamming back into her seat and the starboard wing of her fighter ripping clean off._

Rey?

_It’s the first time she’s heard anything in the bond, and Rey wonders if she’s hallucinating. Sparks shower and spray across her cockpit, fire catching, and she can only smell the horrid reek of a torn fuel line as her fingers scramble to hit the safety ejection-_

Rey, answer me!

_It jams. Rey’s heart leaps up into her throat, as the fire flares up-_

_The side of her fighter crumples in on itself, as though someone were grabbing at it with a fist. Anger, panic, and an emotion she does not want to name cross her mind as the wall of her X-Wing is torn away and her seat is_ shoved _by something out into outerspace._

_Half a second later, her fighter explodes behind her, the heat washing over her body and propelling her even more forward._

**REY!**

_There’s a moment when everything pauses. Where she just drifts, the stars dancing around her and her body going lax. She has enough air left in her evac unit to last an hour. Maybe two. And as she spirals out in her chair, into an enemy firefight with no other protection, she tries to whisper something back to the pained screams that are echoing in her head:_

Sorry.

_Her evac goes into life-saving mode, and Rey’s eyes roll back._

Don’t leave, _he begs._

_It goes dark as she makes a promise she can’t keep._

I won’t.

 

\--  
**Now.  
** \--

 

Luke is dead.  
Kylo is on Korriban.  
Luke is _dead._

Rey doesn’t try to stop her sobs as they form in the pit of her stomach and erupt from her chest, hands fisted in his white, sand-streaked robes. There’s nothing where their bond once was, only a gaping hole that makes her want to curl into a ball and never recover.

She buries her face against his chest, desperate to hear a heartbeat. She knows it won’t sound. Just like his eyes won’t open. His mechanical hand will never need cleaning-

“Rey!” She hears shouted across the walkway framed by ruined statues and crushed obelisks. But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t want to do anything but stay with Luke for as long as she can.

Her arm tears open.

Rey staggers to the side as pain slices down her skin. She glances down to see what looks like a knife wound gouged deep in her bicep. With more reluctance than she’s ever known before, she looks away from her master and sees Kylo stagger back from Aalto, holding his arm.

Aalto lays supine on the ground, clenching a knife with his shaking hand.

“You have to stop him, Rey.” The seer calls with rasping breaths. “You’re the only one who can.”

At the sound of her name, Kylo’s head turns. She can’t see the expression on his face, but the masked helm bobs slightly, to where Luke lays in front of her. Rey’s grief is an open thing, her pain in the Force echoing between the only bond she now has left.

 _Did you kill him?_ She asks silently. Her leg hurts from where the Hssiss and the rocks chewed at it, her arm is injured by Aalto’s knife, and she can’t feel anything but loss and anger and hatred for whoever it was that did this.

He takes a step closer. _Rey…_

 _Did you kill him?!_ And when Aalto turns to face her, she realizes that she’s screamed it out loud.

Kylo doesn’t say anything, and Rey manages to stand. Tears streaming down her face, she bares her teeth and reaches for her weapon. It ignites, the two silver blades a break of color against the rust-colored sand.

“We’ll deal with Luke later.”

“ _How could you!_ ”

And before Rey knows it, she’s swinging her lightsaber with the intent to have it land.

Kylo blocks it with his own, a shower of sparks emitting that puts small blisters on both their hands. He holds her at bay, not striking or attempting to disarm her, and Rey pushes forward.

“I didn’t kill him,” he says as evenly as possible. “I’m only here for the defect-“

Rey grits her teeth and shoves their lightsabers away, letting them fling out into the dirt. Her eyes drift from Kylo to the ground, where she sees the bodies of five Stormtroopers. Disgust fills her and she wants to scream again.

Aalto is still on his back, his legs bent at the knee and arm holding the knife in front of him.

“What happened,” Rey asks him brokenly.

His pale eyes meet with hers, and she’s shocked to see that they are rimmed in red. “You’ve seen it,” he whispers. “You’ve seen the path.”

She has. She closes her eyes, remembers the red lightsaber plunging past the green-

Her Force perception flares, and Rey spins just in time to block the lightsaber aimed at Aalto’s head.

“ _Move,_ ” Kylo demands, pressing against her as she stands guard.

Rey doesn’t.

“You want vengeance?” Kylo’s voice gains an edge to it, as he gestures over her shoulder. “There it is. _Kill the defect,_ Rey.”

“He wants me dead,” Aalto mumbles. “He wants me dead for all that he can’t see.”

“Shut. _Up,_ ” Kylo hisses.

“No one’s-“ she can’t even finish the sentence. Instead, she tries to shut everything _out._ Aalto scuttles back until he stands behind her, and her arms start to shake. “Why are you here?” She demands instead.

Kylo’s shoulders hunch forward, as he presses forward enough to let Rey know his intent on getting past her. “I came here to kill Luke-“

Her eyes slam shut in pain.

“-but he was already dead.” Kylo grits his teeth. “Trust me, Rey.”

Her breath leaves in a small scoff of disbelief. “You’ve threatened to kill him so many times,” she whispers.

“Yes.”

“So why should I believe you.”

“Search your feelings,” he instructs, and Rey steps back in horror at the words that parrot those of the man in the cave.

“You saw,” Aalto’s voice is in her ear, and Rey feels Kylo’s anger rise at the proximity. “You saw the Masters of Ren.”

Rey opens her eyes. “Turn off your lightsaber.”

He bristles. “No.”

“Do it!” Her voice is breaking. Tears well in her eyes.

“You’ve fought me over this pathetic thing before,” Kylo says softly, “Look at the good it’s brought you.”

“I tried to save him,” Aalto, too, sounds broken. “I did what I could-“

Rey let’s out another, smaller sob.

“Please Rey. Know that I will never be the one that hurts you,” Aalto echoes, hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

Something in Kylo snaps, and Rey barely has time to shove Aalto back as he lifts his lightsaber overhead, swinging it down with enough force to make her jump out of the way. With her hand outstretched, she _pushes_ Aalto, sending him spiraling across the sand and out of range for Kylo’s second strike.

“ _Don’t touch him_ ,” she cries, knowing that it’s still meant for Luke. She runs, bringing her lightsaber around in a quick circle, the humming from the blades echoing in the empty valley.

“Stop!” Kylo shouts, just in time to drag his blade through the sand and meet her own. They meet in another shower of sparks, and Rey swings her left arm up, the end of her saberstaff following the motion. Kylo bats it away, but Rey presses forward, lowering her other arm and spinning to give it more momentum. He blocks, but there’s more motive behind it now.

“You don’t want to do this,” he states.

Rey doesn’t answer. The hole where Luke should be fills with something else. Anger floods her system, and when Kylo raises his lightsaber to block her next strike, she lifts up her leg and kicks him with all her might in the chest.

Her own chest aches as he stumbles back. She has enough time to aim a strike for his stomach, before he turns out of the way and lifts up his hand-

-she goes flying, her back connecting harshly with a half-standing obelisk. She tumbles forward, knees bracing her on the dirt. She tries to catch her breath, wheezing as the air leaves her lungs and her body shakes.

Across from her, Kylo lifts off his mask and throws it on the ground. His expression is furious, anger coiling around him in slow and poisonous spirals. “Think about what you’re doing!”

She coughs, rotating her wrist so her lightsaber makes a slow semi-circle around her front. For the first time since landing on Korriban, she hears whispers.

_There are losses that break you._

Tears well in her eyes once more, and her gaze drifts to where Luke lies impossibly still.

“I know what I’m doing,” she says brokenly, because suddenly _it doesn’t matter_ how Luke died. All that matters is that he’s _gone,_ and Kylo is one of the people who wanted to take him from her.

“Rey-“

She runs at him before he can finish, sliding down and aiming her feet at his ankles. He jumps back, and narrowly avoids her blade swinging up to meet the place underneath his chin. The edge of silver grazes it, just enough to leave the lightest of burn marks.

Kylo’s fear sparks in the bond. And Rey lets it drive her.

She pushes her arms out horizontally from her chest, moving her wrists in quick see-saws of movement. He blocks each of them, but he’s growing tired. Unlike her, he’s not moving into the offense. His strikes aren’t aimed for killing, only disabling, and if Rey were in a clearer state of mind she might have been able to notice.

On the edge of her senses, she hears Aalto approaching. “Stay back!” She demands, lifting an arm and once again Force tossing him out of the range of fire.

“Why are you protecting him?!” Kylo bellows, lifting an arm and bending her blade back.

She grits her teeth and pushes forward. “I’m not.” She spins down, aiming a kick at his face that he narrowly avoids. “I’m stopping _you._ ”

His eyes narrow. “I’m not your enemy.”

“You got your wish,” Rey says, eyes stinging. “He’s gone.”

“Not by my hand.”

“Does it matter?”

“I want it to-“

She slams an elbow into his stomach. They both stagger back at the hit. He recovers faster, his arm shooting up-

-and Rey is paralyzed. Arm pinned to her side. His breathing comes in angry pants as he uses the Force to disengage her lightsaber and toss it to the ground. After a moment, he depowers his own, stalking toward her with fists clenched at his side.

“That’s enough.” His stare lands on hers.

She pushes against his hold. Her fingers flex-

A rock flies and hits him in the arm. He looks down, annoyed, but it’s plenty to break the grip he has on her. Rey swings her fist, and it lands with a sick thud against his chest. Another. Another. Their breaths both come in strained as the pain is shared, and when Rey’s hits get weaker and weaker, her back heaves with a sob and Kylo pulls her close.

She shoves him back, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Her hand reaches for her lightsaber-

And Kylo grabs her wrist, pulling it down.

“ _Enough,_ Rey.” His voice takes a softer edge. “Unless you’re ready to kill me. I won’t fight you.”

She looks up at him with blurry eyes. After a moment, it feels like her will goes out and she sinks to her knees. With a shuddering breath, she cranes her head forward. Kylo kneels next to her, his forehead resting against her own.

“Are you done?”

She bites her lip, tastes the salt. “I can’t kill you.”

“I know.”

His hand comes up to rest against her face. Rey winces, as his thumb glides over the ridge of her cheek. His fingers stretch, curling behind her ear-

-then something’s wrong. Rey feels it in the bond, a dark and poisonous _pull_. Her eyes go wide, as his head slumps down from her forehead to her shoulder. Her shaking hand rests on his shoulder, enough to push him back. His body moves heavily, a puppet without strings.

“Kylo?” Another part of her starts to wear away at the edges.

His eyes are rolled back into his head. A trickle of blood seeps from his nose.

Rey looks past him, to where Aalto stands.

“Cut her, and he’ll bleed,” he mutters, lowering the hand he has outstretched.

Rey tries to move, but the weight of Kylo’s body stops her. She frantically attempts to lower him, but she pauses when more blood falls from his nose.

“What did you do?” She demands.

“Saved you,” Aalto’s eyes are lighter than usual, almost a pure white. He walks until he is just above her, hands folded behind his back and head tilted. “Saved you from a weakness.”

“Let him go!”

“It’s your choice.” Aalto smiles as he lets a hand rest on her head. Like a patient teacher to a schoolchild. His fingers thread through her hair-

“Don’t touch me!” She snarls, batting him away.

His arm drops limply to his side. Hurt flits across his features. Rey ignores him, closing her eyes and trying to sense what’s happening inside of Kylo Ren’s mind.

“I’ll tell you,” Aalto murmurs. “But you should know something. I’ve called them here.”

“Who.”

“The Knights of Ren.” He smiles, sickly and sweet. “Kylo heard it first. But the others will be here soon.” His voice goes soft, reverent. “So I want you to decide, Rey.”

In the bond, his presence grows dimmer. “ _What._ ”

“Kill me, or save him.” Aalto reaches down and grabs her lightsaber, pressing the hilt of it in her hand. Then he stands, backing away. “I’ve pulled him into the flow. To only the pain. He’ll feel it, again and again and again, until he dies.” The Knight of Ren’s eyes go wide, manic. “Just like Luke.”

Her breath hitches. “Bastard,” she swears.

“He hasn’t got much time left,” Aalto whispers. “Neither do you. Strike me down, and I will be your martyr. Gladly. Like I said, Rey, I would fall at your feet.”

Rey lifts Kylo’s body with a heave, and Aalto’s face goes wide in joy-

“I’ll find you later,” Rey promises, with more hatred than she would have ever thought herself capable of. “And you can fall then.”

With the last of her strength, she turns Kylo around so that his head is resting in her lap. Her stomach twists, as she tries to recall the brief lessons given to her by Aalto. About the flow. About healing through the mind. Her hand drops her lightsaber, and instead her fingers press against his temples. Her mind is struck with a vision from the cave:

_The boy’s small, long fingers wrap around her wrist, and Rey’s eyes widen when there’s a quiet connection with the touch._

_“Make it go away,” he asks, still not looking up. “_ Please. _Make it go away, Rey.”_

Her hands go clammy with realization. Kylo's presence rapidly vanishes from her mind.

Aalto stands silent for a moment, before she hears him take a step backward. Then another. “Know I will never hurt you Rey,” he promises again. “All of this was to make you stronger. And it will.”

“And someone I’m Force bonded to dying doesn’t count as hurting?” She spits.

Aalto shakes his head. “The flow doesn’t work through the bond. Not when you walk where it can't reach. You could let him die, and it wouldn’t change anything.”

Rey closes her eyes. Luke lies only a few feet away from her. His killer is running away. And Kylo's skin is growing cold under her touch.

_Not loving anything is a luxury._

She knows her decision. It isn't a decision at all.  
  
“I won’t forget this,” she seethes.

“I hope not,” he answers, "Because I'll be waiting for you, Rey." She hears the sound of his footsteps retreating, then fading.

Anger and hatred boil under her skin, but she forces herself to keep it from her mind. There’ll be time for grief and revenge later, right now…

Rey bends over his head, and enters the flow. She watches, as the shattered pieces of Kylo Ren’s life circle over and over in his mind. The pain of them tethering his conscious into the flow, poisoning his presence in the Force and making an endless wound of it. Like Aalto's had once been. Before she had taken the memories from him. Before she had erased that part of him forever.

 _First he is a boy, holding a stuffed tauntaun to his chest and watching his father leave.  
Then he is older, the tauntaun dropped on the ground as he clutches his head and tries to fight away whispers that only want to _ take _from him._

Horror fills her, as Rey realizes just how deep the wounds of Ren go. Just how much she will need to take to heal them.

_He is older still. And undergoing the training of Ren. As like with Aalto, invisible fingers burrow into his skin, push until they’re in his chest, his throat, his thoughts-_

She makes herself keep going. Keep taking, as she holds whatever's left in tact as best she can.

_He is a man, and his father’s hand grazes his cheek, touch already cold._

_He is a man, and he watches as she runs from him. Again and again and again._

Rey finds them all. Finds every place in the flow that the pain that is killing him has touched. And she hears a voice, quiet in her mind.

_Listen to the whispers, Rey. Watch the stars, one by one by one._

She knows what she has to do, and she knows what the consequences of it will be. Rey tries to keep herself together, and not worry about whether or not she'll be able to live with this decision.

 _Rey._ She hears in a muted voice across her mind, the lightest brush of fingers of someone drowning.

 _Ben._ She answers, a sob beginning in her chest again.

 _Don’t leave,_ he begs.

Hot tears run down her face, as she makes a final promise to Kylo Ren. _I won’t._

Rey presses her forehead against his once more, and _pulls_ all of his pain, and the memories of it, away _._


	16. Epilogue: Alone

He sits outside the shipping yard, his long legs bent at awkward angles and his fingers laced over a knee. His head cranes up, looking at the constellations that light up the skies of Takodana, the smell of smoke and trees filling his nose. He watches the stars, knowing one is Nar Shaddaa, another Dantooine, without ever having been there. The ships leaving Maz’s castle trail patterns of red and white, moving further and further away until they could be mistaken for stars themselves.

 _Are you it?_ He thinks. _Or are you?_

The sun would rise, and he would still be sitting there—watching the ships, watching the patterns move in the sky until they start to make a picture for him. He would stare out at nothing until his eyes strained, counting how many seconds it would take until the light banishes them from view, until there’s nothing but open blue again.

Ben doesn’t know who it is, but he’s waiting for someone.

\--

Thousands of miles away, people in a cantina cheer about the death of Kylo Ren. To the side in a darkened corner, the last Jedi tucks a cord bearing a cracked, red crystal under her shirt, and prepares for a long journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sequel? sequel.
> 
> that's a wrap for part one of the story! thank you to everyone, this has been a huge joy to write, especially with all of the amazing comments and feedback i've gotten on the story-- the best i've ever had on a single fic by far <3 <3 <3
> 
> i've made this fic part of a series, and plan to start posting the partner story in about two weeks! until then, feel free to hit me up on tumblr at [gizkasparadise](http://gizkasparadise.tumblr.com) and i hope you enjoyed the ride :D


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